Trigger Warning: Riedikke makes his appearance again. Y'know he's a nasty creep. And Krista has some not so good thoughts.
In Which We Tear Ourselves Apart
Krista wasn't sure why she was surprised.
'Core trait, pfft.'
But she was.
Frozen.
Unmoving as 'The Clown' shattered his prison and used his first moments of freedom to close the gap between them in a single leap. Hands wrapping about her stiff shoulders and pulling her up and away from her guide.
Silence.
Deafening.
Stifling.
Hanging about them like a thick fog.
Everyone too afraid to break it and unsure of what would garner a violent reaction. But eventually, Krista whispered in a small, terrified voice, "D?"
Her captor's head tipped to one side. Much like a dog's when presented with a noise it couldn't quite discern. And it was eerie when one considered that this D was a carbon copy of the D. Just slap on a terrifying grin, some headache-inducing clothes, and bam! You had 'The Clown'.
"Please… put me down."
She wanted her feet on the ground. Needed it. And surely if they were 'core traits', there was some of her D in there. Somewhere.
Maybe.
The Clown's mouth opened. More clearly revealing shark-like teeth that gleamed and dripped with venom as he smiled and leaned in.
"D, please!"
She didn't know if she was begging for the Clown to see reason. Or for the Guide to get her out of her predicament. Or for the Ringmaster to come over and put a stop to all this nonsense.
Maybe she begged for all of it.
Whatever the case, the D did pause. And he eyed Krista much like a piece of meat.
A piece of meat that was talking far too much. But also making a bit of sense.
At his back, her Guide was creeping around. Tightly clutching a blade that was more likely to be an irritation rather than a hindrance between two hands. And she was correct in thinking as much. Watching, horrified, as he valiantly attempted to free her. Sinking the blade into the center of his back.
With a snarl and a screech of fury, shirt flashing crimson and shapes jerking about like angry bees, her captor wrenched an arm back. His closed fist striking the Guide across the face. Blood spattering across the mirror-paneled floor.
She was down. But unable to move. Small body jerking futilely against the hand now clasped about her wrist. His hold doing little more than tightening with each tug.
Much more and he might very well break the bones there.
'Why is he still turned that way?!'
The noise around her fell away. Replaced by a high-pitched whine as her eyes snapped down to her side. Observing the handle of the knife.
'I can use it.'
Her fingers wrapped around the smooth wood, and she pulled. Screaming through grit teeth. Wanting little more than to curl up in a corner and cry. But instead, she kept her arm moving as the Clown turned about. The blade sinking to the hilt as she struck her target.
A place that would likely take him down for a few minutes. But if past experiences were anything to go off of, it wouldn't kill him.
His heart.
Previously blown pupils narrowed into slits as the D observed the blade protruding from his chest. Head tipping in confusion.
Irritation.
Lips curving down as he stared at it. As if attempting to burn it away.
Aside, he seemed unfazed. As if it were a mere inconvenience.
An insect on his shirt.
"Shit."
"Remove it," he growled. Pulling her close, once more.
Behind him, she could see the Ringmaster finally rising. Shaking his head and turning narrowed eyes upon the three of them. So, perhaps she could buy enough time by distracting him? "No! You're being a turd!"
His head tipped to the other side, accompanied by an audible pop. The scowl on his face deepening after another moment. "You don't have a choice."
"The Hell I don't!" she screeched. And promptly threw her head forward. Headbutting the end of the knife with all the ferocity of a charging bull.
The attack was not very effective…
Unless one had intended to further agitate him.
If so, it was super effective!
And not far away, another girl could hear the ensuing growl of discontent and scream of terror. Of pain.
Wholly unconcerned about her own wellbeing, she snorted out a short laugh and turned to the one mirror in this strange land that wasn't black. Its shiny surface reflecting nothing, but a mirror nonetheless.
She pressed her fingers to the surface and was, predictably, met with resistance.
"Damn it all. I shouldn't hafta have that ditz with me to go through." She crossed her arms with a huff. "Fine. Guess I'll go see what she's got herself into."
In short? A mess.
She caught the scent of blood long before she saw it. Briefly taken aback by the seemingly large quantities of it spattered across the glossy ground. The eerie silence broken by pitiful whimpers and a voice she recognized as belonging to the Guide.
"Sit still!" he snapped.
The woman rounded a corner. Eyeing the scene before her critically without announcing her presence. Watching as the D, battered and bruised, attempted to stymie the flow of blood. Pulsing in bright vermillion waves past his fingers and the cloth he held.
Krista briefly sagged in his hold. "I really don't feel too hot."
"Yes, well, I'm sure you'd feel better had you not provoked the beast!"
"I was trying to stall for time!"
"I didn't mean now!" He jerked his chin towards the exit before shifting his bloody spectacles with his wrist. Very clearly frustrated. Angry. "I meant out there! In the real world!"
"But I've never seen the Clown before now!"
He was unnecessarily rough in tightening the cloth down around her arm. Not faltering as she cried out. And the other woman could now see the cause of the bleed. The exposed and bloodstained bone a grim sight, even to her.
But still, she was silent.
The Guide ripped off another long strip of cloth from his ruined cardigan. Wrapping it over the wound itself. "You never think! Your offering of blood tempts the beast, and then you act surprised when the beast accepts! If you don't want to get bitten, quit offering him a bite!"
And Krista sputtered. Mouth flapping as she attempted to dissect his statement. Before understanding swept over her. Eyes shining. "My D wouldn't do this!"
"No! Not your D!" he mocked with a sharp tug on the cloth. "Not your D who's come close to killing you more than once! You don't know him! You don't comprehend that beast he hides!"
"Fuck off!" she spat. Jerking away. Rubbing furiously at her wet eyes.
"If you don't listen to me here, that beast will be the death of you!"
"She's not gonna listen," the woman finally interjected. "I'm in her head all the time. She's too stupid."
With a jolt of fear, Krista looked up just to be met with a cold gaze. Electric blue eyes piercing her with their predatory intensity, set within a face she would almost swear was her own. Sharper. Darker. Framed by curls black as pitch.
She felt no comfort in finally having a face to fit the voice.
She was terrified.
The voice should not have a face!
Should not look so uncannily like her!
She stood. Swayed. Eventually fixed a hard stare on the woman before realizing that she was decidedly taller than herself. Even if it was only a few inches. And determined that was wholly unfair.
Determined many things in that short amount of time.
Determined that she wished she didn't feel intimidated.
"You?!" she finally choked out. Fingers digging into the edge of her wound.
"Me?" The woman gestured at herself, brows raised in a display of confusion. "Me what?"
"Fuck you! That's what!"
The dark-haired woman suddenly leaned in. Laughing, but far from amused. Finger jabbing Krista in the chest. "Now listen here, ya little dipshit," she growled.
But anything she'd been prepared to say was put on a back burner as their Guide stepped between them. Hands raised placatingly. "Ladies, please. We need to get you both out of here. Preferably in one piece because neither of you can leave without the other."
Not at all what Krista wanted to hear.
And the woman could see it in her pretty green eyes. A wicked grin curving her lips. Hair seeming to dance with a life of its own. "That's right! You're stuck with me forever!" she sang. "And now, I remember my name."
Krista wouldn't lie. She was curious. Horribly so. Wanted a name to go with everything she'd been given. But… "I don't wanna hear it."
Any semblance of a smile fled the strange woman's face. "You're really startin' to piss me off."
Her fingers dug into the wound once more, and she sagged against a neighboring wall. Eyes closing in exhaustion. "I don't care."
And the world around them trembled. Glass walls clattering and cracking. Shifting in a way that surely spelled destruction.
"We need to leave. Now. Before she bleeds out."
And it was only now that the other woman kept her mouth shut. Seeing that things were falling apart and would likely collapse if they didn't hurry. "C'mon, you." She wrapped an arm around Krista and hauled her up. Dragging her towards the exit.
"Am I gonna look like shit when I wake up?" Krista asked the Guide.
"You always look like shit."
She ignored the woman, pointedly staring ahead as she pressed for an answer. "Am I gonna be bleeding everywhere?"
"Unlikely," the D answered. "Although I can't say for certain how you will look and feel, you might be tired for a short time."
"Awesome."
The floor heaved and in the distance they could hear more glass shatter. Soon followed by the soft pitter-patter and clickity-clack of two vastly different 'Cores' running in their direction.
"I think we need to pick up the pace!" the woman urged Krista. But Krista, if anything, seemed to slow down. It was more likely that she wasn't. That it was just her impatience affecting her perception on things. "Seriously! Come on!"
"Y'know, if dying here really means that I die for good, maybe I should."
"What?!" the woman screeched. But she didn't wait for an answer. Rushing them towards the in-line-of-sight mirror. "I know I'm usually all for those dark, fucked up thoughts, but I kinda wanna live! So get your sad ass through that – heugh!"
Both girls toppled over backwards a scant twelve inches from their exit. Watching in shock as the Ringmaster, with his arm wrapped about the Clown's throat, whirled around. Violently flinging the Clown into the nearest wall with a loud crack.
Despite his dapper appearance, he looked frightfully fierce. Face twisted with a scowl as he lifted the crumpled D by the back of his neck. Tired of his manic counterpart if his expression was anything to go by.
But Krista was less concerned with that. She found herself more transfixed by the disembodied, ethereal hand slipping through the mirror. Its surface rippling like disturbed water as it stretched forward, palm up. Fingers gently curling.
Uncurling.
Gesturing for her to grab hold and follow it through the mirror.
And as the world around them shifted and shuddered, the hand seemed to motion just a tad more urgently. Beckoning with a small hand flap.
She looked to one side. Staring at the woman who was entirely preoccupied with the Clown and the Ringmaster. Her vivid blue eyes staring in wonder as they fought. The Clown using his fists and teeth. The Ringmaster brandishing a blade that – while invisible – was stained red.
They were almost equally matched at the moment.
Back to the hand her eyes went. And without much thought, she stood.
Quickly.
Quietly.
Slipping her hand into the other without much concern.
It felt like… D.
Less substantial. But that strange mix of protective warmth and bringer-of-death chill that danced across her fingers was undeniable. So very D in how the digits felt when laced with her own. So very comforting, because she didn't mind that he killed for a living. He didn't seem the type to kill without reason.
So, why should she ever fear a man like the Hunter?
Even if 'the Clown' lie buried somewhere within him.
The hand gave a soft tug. Retreating through the mirror with her in tow.
'So maybe I don't want to die.'
Krista stepped through. Eyes closing as the frigid liquid washed over her. Bringing with it a small revelation. One she couldn't quite give words to but could feel.
Her left hand curled around the edge of the mirror. Still steadily dripping blood. But she moved no further. Gently pulling back against the phantasmal hand until she could turn about and look at the mirror.
On the other side was chaos. Entire walls crumpled down as the two Ds continued their battle for dominance. And the woman amongst the wreckage, staring in terror at the mirror.
She could leave her.
Be rid of one of her problems.
…
No. She couldn't.
'We're gonna have to figure something out. But I can't just 'kill' her.'
She pushed her hand through just a bit more. Just enough to do as the hand before her did.
Wiggle wiggle.
The woman, with her brows drawn together, relieved, grinned and lunged for the proffered hand. Crashing through the mirror without all the mess.
"Damn! I thought you'd left me!"
Krista rolled her eyes and slowly trailed along after the hand. "Yeah. For as much as I'd like to not deal with you, I couldn't."
"Watch it."
"Don't be a turd and I won't say shit you don't like."
The woman said nothing. Huffing. Arms crossed. Unwilling to admit to any such nonsense.
"But I am really tired," Krista started. "I feel like I could sleep for days." A short pause. "I don't know why I'm even asking, but how are you?"
"Better than you."
"Fair enough."
"Look, can ya just focus on leavin'? Walkin' is nice and all, but I don't wanna be stuck here forever."
"Well… I don't know how to leave. I thought you might."
"Oh, for fuck's sake!"
And here, Krista laughed, albeit a bit dryly. "We've said that word a lot today."
"What? Fuck?"
"Mmhmm."
"So? It's a good word! Lots of emotion behind it. You should try sayin' it more!"
Krista didn't have time to respond. Cringing in dread and terror as something that felt particularly invasive forced itself into her thoughts. And she felt that, if she were to turn around, she would not care for what she saw.
"I think something is here that isn't meant to be."
The woman faltered. Eyeing the dark, featureless surroundings. Seeing nothing. But pointedly not turning around to look.
"Okay. So… perhaps now is the time to focus on leaving?"
"Well, I'm starting to think that… I might be asleep. My wounds aren't hurting anymore."
They both took a look at her arm. And sure enough, it was on the road to recovery. No longer bleeding. Flesh building back up.
"Pinch me."
"Gladly!" The woman reached over and pinched her underarm. The most painful stretch of flesh to tweak.
Krista felt it, but the pain was muted. Everything was still dark and bleak.
And suddenly, the woman was flying away from her with a shrieked curse. A familiar figure standing before her. Vermillion shirt throbbing. Shapes swirling as the skin around his eyes blackened and his mouth gaped.
He leaned in.
Krista screamed. Throat burning with the strain as she kicked at the figure hovering over her. Arms swinging in her panic. Fingers digging into his crimson eyes. Attempting to push back the blood-thirsty beast.
A low, soft rumbling filled the air. A noise she immediately recognized. And as the fog cleared from her mind, she could see for certain that it was her D. A little scratched up, but her D. Giving her an unreadable look. But if she had to guess…
He looked concerned.
She couldn't say for sure.
"Gods, I am so sorry D," she gasped. Unbothered by her pinned position. Unconcerned with the all-over ache she currently felt. A tad upset that she'd probably beaten Erembour away. "I didn't think… you were you. I thought you were…"
She stopped, because saying 'I thought you were bad you' just sounded childish. And there wasn't a bad D, per se.
"Sorry," she murmured again. Ashamed that she didn't immediately see a difference between D and the Clown. "I didn't mean to claw at your eyes."
"It's alright." He sat back on his haunches. Hands still clasping her wrists. "Are you here?"
"Am I here?"
"Awake?"
"I sure hope so!" she chirped.
Now he released his hold on her. Standing back but eyeing her thoughtfully. "Bad dream?"
"I guess so." And without any prodding, she explained the gist of her dream. Not delving too deep. Not mentioning that each character was a D. But just enough.
Just enough to start the churning in D's brain.
Sure, he had seen her flailing. Had decided to reach out to her once he realized she wasn't strictly sleeping. But the cause?
He couldn't say for certain, but the entire 'dream' felt… self-imposed. "What do you know of psychological attacks?"
Her brows furrowed. Nose scrunched. Mouth gaped. "Is that a fancy way of saying 'stroke'? Or 'anxiety'? 'Depression'?"
"No, it's not," Hand laughed. "But it is an interesting way to look at it."
"Then… what? An attack launched on your mental…" She massaged the air around her head. Face scrunched in thought. "Mental state? Mental you? Mental mental."
"Very eloquently put."
"Thank you."
"You're on the right track," D said. "If you kill the mind, you kill the person. Tricking the opponent into thinking what is happening is reality certainly helps, but there is always something that tells you it is not."
"So… why tell me this?"
"Your 'dream' was a moderate attack. Could you tell?"
She snorted unattractively. Gingerly sitting up and feeling the full effects of her adventures. "If I hadn't, I would question my own sanity. Because each player in my dream was you… in some way."
"Me?"
"Yeah!" she exclaimed. Eyes alight with wonder. "All different yous! But still you in some way. I'd be okay with going there again, honestly. Maybe not make so many angry."
And now, everything made more sense. But he said nothing. Quietly speculating and coming to conclusions as Krista babbled. Stood. Circled the stage and its occupants as she talked.
D frowned after a moment. Not entirely liking the fact that she experienced the attack in the first place, but if it was formed in her own mind there wasn't much to be done. He couldn't hunt down the person responsible.
That would just be redundant.
Silly.
At his back, Krista suddenly buried her nose in his hair and sniffed with the force of a horde of dogs. Gently patting his shoulders after a moment. And at his curious gaze, she sheepishly smiled. "I told myself I'd smell you once I left… here." She circled back around to Erembour, pointing at her temple with a shrug. "You smell much better than that guy that stabbed me."
"Yeah?" Hand asked. "What does he smell like?"
"Strong. I can't put my finger on what it is, but it makes me think of… something not hot. But spicy." Her face scrunched up and she put a hand to her head. Rubbing. Gingerly grinning after a moment as she sank to her knees. "And apparently gives me headaches to think about?"
Concerning.
"Ah. It doesn't matter."
It did.
"Why don't you teach me more about… things? Thingy things!"
Classy subject change. But he would go with it for now. "What would you like to know?"
"Everything! I want to know about you! Or Dhampirs? Nobles! Those giant dogs!" She reached out and planted a hand in Erembour's fur. "Demons!"
The Demon groaned. Rolled onto his stomach and eyed her.
"I'd ask you, but you already said it makes you tired to talk."
He rolled his eyes. Muttering, "… true."
"So!" Krista inched closer to the Hunter. "Please!" Another small scoot forward. Grin wide. "I want to learn about the things in this world the orphanage never taught me. And if I know of something, I'll tell you!"
"Alright."
And the next few hours were spent there on the stage. Secluded. Krista attempting to absorb everything D told her. From Nobles and their settlement on the Moon, to Shifters and Mints.
"The ones you eat?"
"The ones that eat you."
"Ew!"
He told her of Mutants and the Clan of the Barbarois. Living indebted to the Nobility for their flourishing life and land. Their life previously on the brink of ending due to toxic fumes.
He told her of previous adversaries and clients. Of being offered a place by the sea, to live as a fisherman. And he could see in her pale-green eyes that she was thankful. Appreciative that he was keeping her desire to know more about him in mind.
And that she was amused by Hand's more colorful, embellished stories.
Outside their little world, skies darkened. Winds cooling and clouds roiling as the storm built. Rain dripping off the edge of their shelter.
And eventually, all talk ceased. A companionable silence enveloping them.
For at least a moment.
"D?" Krista started. "I don't think you ever said. Does running water bother you? Assuming there is a difference between bathing and walking through rain."
"It does not."
"Are there many Dhampirs affected by it?"
"Yes."
Here, Krista frowned. Turning to eye the rain. "That's… sad. Rain is so refreshing. If I couldn't just be in the rain… I don't know what I'd do."
"You'd not know anything different. Perhaps you would long for it, but it would never be within reach."
Krista's face fell even more. Very obviously off-put by his very logical observation. "That sounds right, but I hate it. Thanks!"
Without another word, he watched her shirk his shirt and slide out into the rain. Eyes closed as she soaked it in. And like a snake, Erembour followed. Slinking off into the evening shadows with a low groan. Fur plastered to his skin.
As the Hunter stepped into the downpour, he honestly expected nothing less of the girl. And he could admit that it was a shame more of his kind could not enjoy such a small thing.
Night settled upon the town. Blanketing the community in darkness broken only by the intermittent lightning. Briefly illuminating the tavern room occupied by two lovers. Softly panting and moaning as they fell upon the bed.
Krista, in the midst of gathering items for another bath (because wrestling with Erembour had become a thing), paused. Cocking her head to one side. Hearing the soft noises floating from the neighboring room. "What's that?"
"Our neighbors."
"Okay, but… should we check on them?"
With a silent shake of his head, D stripped of his coat. Watching as the girl stared in horror. Mouth gaping.
"But they sound like they're in pain!"
Hand chuckled. "They're fine, kid. Quit worrying."
Now, Krista kneeled on the bed to press her ear to the wall. Her brows furrowed before she muttered, "Why else would they moan? They must be in pain."
The countenanced carbuncle outright laughed, his chortles serving to temporarily mask the noises.
And render D's arm practically useless as it shook with the force.
Not that he needed it.
"I'm so glad you find this funny, Hand." But she didn't move. Listening intently for more sounds of distress. "They could be dying! And you're just gonna laugh it up!"
A cool hand pressed into her shoulder, guiding her down to her rear and away from the wall. And she blinked owlishly at the Hunter in surprise. Taking in the assortment of items cradled in his still-quivering left arm. "Going to bathe?"
"I am."
"Alright. Have fun! I'll just sit here and…"
"Eavesdrop?"
She squawked. Face flushing. Unable to retort as she watched him disappear into the bathroom. Leaving her to stretch out and listen to the spray of the shower and the endeavors of their neighbors. Try to fathom the reasons for their groaning.
Was it a strange new language?
A new style of singing?
An incantation?
She scratched at her head. Staring into the dim room before yelling, "Why are y'all makin' all that noise?!"
Silence.
Faintly, she heard D shift beneath the water, quelling Hand's laughter. From the other room? Soft giggles and whispered words. Followed by the harsh squeal of a mattress spring.
It answered nothing.
Only made her wonder why they were now bouncing on the bed.
The longer she stared into the darkness, the warmer she felt. Skin prickling and belly feeling strangely aflutter.
Anxious.
A soft sigh.
"Sounds nice, huh."
It still almost surprised her just how easily the lilting voice left her lips.
"Hmm?"
"Y'know. What they're doing."
Krista scoffed. "No. Sounds painful. But if they say they're fine, I guess I shouldn't worry."
Was this going to be the new norm? Conversing with herself, but having someone answer back?
"Have you always been this dense? This innocent?"
"I didn't think I was."
"Then tell me how babies are made," the voice challenged.
She couldn't, and the voice knew. Laughing victoriously when Krista's face scrunched in displeasure. "Why don't you tell me?"
"Don't wanna. I want you to stay in the dark a little while longer."
Another long stretch of silence.
"Well… maybe D will tell me."
"Tell you what?"
With a start, Krista jolted upwards. Embarrassed. Eyes to the ground as she skittered across the room. "Shower first! I'll ask in a bit!"
This time, it was D left in the dimly lit room as Krista ran into the bathroom. Doubling back long enough to snatch up a very reluctant, very muddy Demon.
"Still givin' it Hell in there, aren't they?" Hand chortled after a moment. His answer a soft hum. "Think that Demon will stick around long? You know how his kind are."
"Who can say?" the Hunter murmured. Bending down to dig for a whetstone and oil. And everything he would need to polish and clean up. "Perhaps our travels will appease that wandering nature. Perhaps he will decide he is better suited to travel alone."
Silence.
A shrill screech suddenly filled the air. And D was across the room, blade at the ready, before he heard Krista yell, "Holy Gods! Why is this so hot?! Does he use cold water?!"
Ah.
"Well, you can't say you won't know when she's in danger."
True.
Bathing Erembour should have been easier than it was.
Despite his intelligence, he still managed to act like a proper bath-phobic dog.
"Erembour, seriously! Are you really gonna act like this?"
"I hate water."
"You can't sleep in the bed with me if you are covered in mud and smell like Death!"
"I'm supposed to smell like Death."
"Not in my house!"
After half an hour of furious scrubbing (something her sore, tired body wholeheartedly protested), the Demon was reborn.
He was unhappy (secretly proud), but he was clean. Looking like a proper sheep.
"Thank you for letting me clean you!" He grumbled out a reply she couldn't quite hear, but his tail was up and wagging as she opened the bathroom door long enough to release him. And with a sigh, she rubbed her eyes with the sleeve of her dress.
Her very hairy dress that she was thankful for, if only for a moment.
She looked it over, eyeing the tears and the coloring.
Washing it had done very little to rid it of the bloodstains.
"Time for the trash. And I won't pull you back out."
There was no response. But she didn't really expect one. Not when the tattered mess was already slamming into the bin with all the fury she could muster.
As it was, she figured she would simply wear D's shirt one more time. But not tonight. It was in the other room, folded and on the end table. Which meant she wouldn't have anything but her armor.
Did it really bother her?
Her stomach cramped just a bit as she began unhooking the clasps on her armor. Stripping and gingerly stepping into the shower.
Nerves?
She didn't feel particularly nervous. Maybe slightly nauseated. But maybe she just got a little too wet and cold and riled up.
Her quick scrub didn't help. Neither did the warmth.
Outside the shower, she didn't feel much better. Dry, but stomach decidedly upset. Naked, but too warm as she dabbed at her armor and cleaned it up. Dried it off. And eventually began wiggling into the worn leather.
Despite feeling ill, there was something so very comforting in the way the armor conformed to her shape. Sure, she only had protection over her torso and groin, but it felt secure. Even if she should have been protected from most of her wounds.
So, perhaps her armor didn't serve much purpose. But it made her feel safe.
"Gods, I feel like crap," she sighed. Taking a moment to unbind any pinched skin around her thighs and tie up unused straps before she leaned over the sink. "And I forgot my underwear."
She turned her eyes to the small pile of undergarments set off to one side. Neatly folded by hands that weren't her own.
That, she would admit, was embarrassing. But more concerning was the ever-increasing cramp in her belly.
Hot water flooded her mouth and she spit into the basin.
"You look like you're gonna puke."
Bile dripped between clenched teeth. She wanted to tell the voice (the girl) to bugger off. But anything she was prepared to say died in her throat when she looked up at the mirror. Staring into the face of the woman from her… 'dream'. Blue eyes overly vibrant considering the condensation clouding the reflective glass.
Lips curled into a smirk.
"Don't look so surprised. In fact, you might start seein' more of me soon."
She shook her head, stomach churning and gurgling unhappily. "Go 'way."
"Nah." Her head cocked to one side. "I'm tired of being here. And you're weak."
Another cramp. And this time, stomach juices the color of the evening sun spattered against the basin.
'Blood?'
She heaved again. Sagging against the sink before she could get another look.
Yes, it did look worryingly red. But her mind supplied that it likely wasn't from lunch. It would have been brown by that point.
Then why was it red?
Running water in the sink, Krista chanced a glance at the mirror.
Nothing.
Nothing at all.
Honestly, no reflection seemed easier to stomach in that moment. Much easier than staring into that sneering woman's eyes.
D silently closed the door to the bathroom. Crossing the floor to his sword where it rested on the left side of the bed. Unfinished. Unpolished.
The Hunter was… definitely leaning towards feeling concerned.
Troubled.
Only time would tell just how much of a problem the blue-eyed entity would be. Because, at this point, it was already an issue. The cause for the girl's sickness? He couldn't say for sure, but he was inclined to believe it was.
"D? I think it's sharp enough."
True to Hand's observation, D studied the blade in his grasp and found the edge excessively sharp. He clucked his tongue with distaste and set about polishing the blade. An almost strained silence settling about the room.
"Worrying about what will come of this won't do much good," Hand eventually said. "I admit that the other entity is worrisome. Sounds like she wants to fight for control. But at this rate, she will have to figure it out and fight on her own."
"I am aware," D replied. Continuing to polish the blade.
"Then why fret?"
To describe the Hunter as someone who frets was a bit of an exaggeration.
Mulling was a more apt description.
With an uncharacteristic sigh, D gingerly ran a fingertip down the edge. Satisfied with the end result. But that's as far as that went as he attempted to mentally piece together a puzzle he didn't have all the pieces to.
The door to the bathroom opened with a quiet creak.
D glanced upwards, eyes tracking Krista through the room as she set about depositing her bathing items and underwear. And while the girl and the term 'graceful' had never gone hand-in-hand, she seemed even less blessed with grace than usual. Lurching about and looking positively ill.
One misplaced step was all it took to send her tumbling. Landing facedown with a soft fwump in D's blessedly blade-free lap. That she was prompt to shove herself out of as she thanked the Gods that be for the Hunter's quick reflexes. "Sorry, D. I… really don't feel good."
And with a disproportionately loud grunt from her petite body, she scuttled up onto the bed. Pausing just long enough for D to gently brush his knuckles across her feverish forehead before turning and lying atop the duvet. Limbs stretched out.
"Where'd Erembour go?" she asked after a long while.
A low grumble answered her, and she lifted her face from her pillow just as the bed dipped beneath the Demon's weight. His large form gingerly making its way over her before slotting itself between her and D.
"That didn't mean you had to get in the bed if you didn't want to."
"… wanted to. So hush."
Well, he didn't have to tell her twice.
And with nothing else to do but rest and suffer, she found her eyes wandering back to the Hunter.
A very… shirtless Hunter.
Was he without his armor and shirt before she came out?
Yes. She supposed he must have been. But it still came as a surprise to see the intimidating man so open and defenseless. And she had to admit that the armor typically adorning the man left little to the imagination.
Even still, she studied him. Determined to memorize as much as possible. Everything from the shade of his strikingly pale skin to the barely-there scar from one-too-many stabs to the heart.
Honestly, she'd never been one to sit and admire another's body. Too focused on avoiding potential bullies or trying to make sense of the world she knew. Even fleeting fancies had never been about looks. And after a few propositions for lunch outside the cafeteria ended in her prospects ridiculing her and saying words she was sure were meant to be insults, she stopped looking altogether.
Strange how people who acted nice were not always nice.
With a huff, Krista let her gaze follow the curve of D's spine. Up to his enviously thick hair. Across his broad shoulders. Along each crease that outlined his musculature.
She twisted. Curling around Erembour to better see the Hunter until she was stretched across the pillows.
Again, she wasn't normally one to pay attention to looks, but Krista could admit that the man was very handsome. Very well built. And she was not embarrassed to admit that she was enjoying the opportunity to observe him as he continued his maintenance on his miscellaneous weapons and armor.
D, for the most part, was unbothered by her studious stare. Inclining his head when she realized she'd been caught and gave him a weak grin. But he would let her have her fill. Continuing the methodical back and forth motion as he polished a broad-bladed hunting knife.
Overall, it was pleasant.
Well… 'was' being the operative word.
It was less pleasant when your sickly charge was massaging the nipple nearest to their hand. Staring with an intensity that would unnerve some of the most seasoned men as the muscle beneath rippled in agitation.
Should he feel bad if his first thought was to break the small finger (before he remembered who was attached to it)?
"What are you doing?" he eventually enquired, slim brows cocked.
"Since I have these, I thought girls were the only ones with them. But you have them too. What are they? Or… what are they for?"
"You've never seen a nipple that wasn't your own?" He wouldn't lie. He was a tad incredulous.
"Um… no. I don't think I have."
D leaned away from her probing finger, but she followed. Intent.
"You don't tend to see much of anything when you're forced into a separate changing room during physical education. And there were rules against going shirtless. So…" She circled her finger about his areola once more before looking down to her own chest. Contemplating. "What are they for?"
Now, the Hunter was sure the girl could see his brows climbing towards his hairline. Certain she wasn't serious. "For women, they are for feeding their young."
Her face scrunched up a bit more. "So… if boys have them, does that mean they can feed babies too?"
"I suppose some, if not many, have the capability to do so," he said. Setting his blade and stone to one side as he turned to face her fully. Now beginning to question just how little she knew. Surely she knew the basics of Human anatomy. Being unaware of some of the most prevalent creatures inhabiting this world was strange enough, but to be unaware of her own body and its functions?
At her age?
"And you said it is mainly women who carry babies, right?" Krista continued. "Can you show me how babies are made?"
A heavy beat of silence.
When D shifted to rise from the bed, she grabbed hold of his wrist. Tugging. Watery eyes pleading. "This is what I wanted to ask earlier."
Still, he stood. Gingerly removing himself from her grasp. "You should have learned this in your classes." He passed the cloth between hands. Left arm beginning to quiver as Hand soundlessly chortled at the situation.
"But I didn't."
They met eyes. Krista searching for answers. D searching for any signs of trickery. Neither finding what they hoped to.
And for some reason, she felt ashamed. "I know the basics. Bones, muscles, digestive, et cetera. But you tell me what makes girls and boys different? Aside from having a more rounded chest, I can't say. Aside from XX and XY, I can't say!" Her voice rose. Angry and desperate. "Because everyone at that damned place decided that all talk of reproduction and shit they felt I wasn't allowed to know was strictly forbidden!"
Silence.
Krista went limp against the bed. Huffing softly and swallowing thickly as her scalp crawled and her eyes watered. But otherwise, her face was eerily blank.
"Despite all that," she started, rubbing her face into the duvet, "Miss Haldwyn wasn't everyone else. I went to her for most everything. Asked her if she would teach me about reproduction. And she tried. Taught me to keep my no-no squares covered. But someone found out. Probably overheard me asking her at the school. And I didn't see her for a few days.
"And I know I must look childish. Asking these questions. Acting like it's the end of the world. But what's the harm in knowing? Who does it hurt?"
The best questions, honestly.
The Hunter could theorize what might have happened. Wondering if, while under the rule of the Nobles, the orphanage director had decided there should be no chance for Krista to procreate. And what better way than to ostracize her and limit her knowledge of her own body?
And that meant no sexual education.
"Do you menstruate?"
Krista pulled her face from the bed. Eyes worryingly bereft of understanding. "Do I… men straight?"
Dear God, help him. "Do you bleed?"
Now, she looked very concerned. "D? Are you alright? You've seen me bleed."
Now, in a very out of character display of emotion, his brows came together, and he pinched the bridge of his nose. Slim lips drawn tight as he sighed. Briefly wondering how they'd come to this moment. To this conversation. "Do you bleed from your… no-no square?"
She looked first at her chest. Then towards her groin. Back up at D. "Why would I bleed from there?!"
"I'll take that as a 'no'."
"But why would you even ask that?!"
"Kid, listen," Hand interjected. "It's not important right now. It's just hard to think that you were never told anything about your body. Or any body."
She blew a raspberry.
"As for showing you how babies are made…"
"I cannot do that," D finished. Watching as her face dropped and twisted. Dejected. Before she began kicking her feet. Not enough to be violent, but enough to convey her frustrations. He pressed a hand to her too-warm neck, and she stilled with a soft whine. "I cannot show you. Not today."
"Tell me someday?"
"Perhaps."
Unappeased but not willing to fight, Krista bowed her head. Slowly pushing herself to her side of the bed. Wriggling beneath the blankets with Erembour.
Yes, she would drop it for now. Still not caring for the unfairness of it all. But holding on to the hope that D would indeed someday tell her how babies babied.
The door to the mausoleum fell open beneath Laun's hand. Grinding and groaning. Revealing a decrepit crypt that'd scant seen the light of day. And wasn't likely to in the foreseeable future.
He closed it. Watching with mild interest as the walls and tombs shifted. Near soundless as they created a staircase leading down into darkness. And far in the distance, he could hear an alarm screeching at a frequency so high most Humans would be unable to detect it.
Down he went.
Down until stone turned to steel. Eyes, mechanical in nature but appearing very organic, bulging out of the ceiling. Studying him for a moment before retreating. And with a screech, the wall before him was snapping open. The alarm clicking off.
"Welcome back, Lord Laun," a soft voice spoke as he stepped into the small room. "Doctor Edmont has requested your presence in his lab. Would you like to head there now?"
"That would be fine, Anyd. Thank you."
"My pleasure, my Lord."
With a thrumming hum, the chamber lurched forward. Whisking him through a small network of tunnels before taking him down with a speed that made his stomach churn. "Did Doctor Edmont happen to mention the reason for this meeting?"
Surely, it had to be urgent to warrant this speed.
"My apologies. He did not say, but I believe it has to do with the task you've given him."
Another sharp change in direction.
"If my sensors are correct, he is not having much success."
Everything ground to a very sudden halt. The braking mechanics squealing with strain. And when the doors opened, Laun went tumbling out. Appearing no worse for wear but feeling very unsettled. "Anyd?"
The chamber closed. Whisked away to another section. But one lone eye formed and rolled over the area. Eventually settling upon his perturbed visage. "Yes, Lord Laun?"
"Why the rush?"
The metal surrounding the eye curved inwards on one side. Giving the impression of a sly smile. "You know I am not permitted to speak on certain things." It reverted back to its wide, unblinking state. "Besides, I feel… anxious."
"Is everything alright?"
"Yes, I believe everything is… nominal."
He didn't believe Anyd.
"Have a pleasant night, my Lord."
She was gone before he could press her for more. Eye sinking into the ceiling with a sickly squelch. "Anyd, if you ever need to tell me something, please do not hesitate."
He didn't receive an answer. But he didn't necessarily expect one.
Instead, he turned down the hall. Towards the long, honeycomb structured facility. The first room he would soon occupy much like the others further in that were framed by many doors. Many windows. All of the rooms currently devoid of life.
Devoid of color.
Devoid of furniture.
They were honestly depressing.
But the first was the lab. A room he knew to be filled with a multitude of machines. A few tables. One operation table. Fluids and chemicals.
Things Laun had no hope of understanding any time soon.
There was an explosion. Door rattling violently. Smoke billowing through the cracks.
Laun rushed in. Eyes watering as the clouded, acrid air immediately sent his lungs into spasm. "Edmont?!" he croaked. "Edmont, are you alright?!"
A wall to his left that he could not see split open with a loud hiss. The noise followed closely by hoarse coughing and a machine kicking on with a loud whir.
Slowly, the air cleared. Smoke drawn out of the rooms and into the small vent in the ceiling. Gradually revealing a very disheveled azure-haired man. Everything from his protective clothes to his dark skin covered in unidentifiable fluids and soot.
With a soft sigh, the man removed the cracked spectacles hanging off one ear. Narrowed golden eyes studying the cracked lenses and warped frame with a small sneer. "I'm fine, Laun," he eventually answered, pocketing the glasses. "Just another trial gone awry. Might've killed him."
From the other room, a voice not dissimilar to Laun's interjected, "Nah, Doc. I'm okay."
A noise that had his stomach rolling filled the brief silence. Much like a raw slab of meat slapping against the ground.
With a copious amount of fluids.
Chunky fluids.
"I lied," the voice called again. "My leg's fallen off."
Another wet schlop.
Edmont ran his slim fingers through his shaggy hair. Briefly tugging at a few strands before he mustered up the courage to ask, "What fell off this time?"
No reply came from the room.
"Might've killed him," he reiterated. "Damn, he was one of the nicer ones."
"Is this what you summoned me for?" Laun guessed.
"No." Another sigh. And he turned towards the room as if to go in, but he faltered. "Well, not entirely. I called you before I started."
"Tell me about it."
Slowly, the Doctor plodded over to a console. Tapping a few keys. Eyeing the monitors before initiating a small lockdown. And together, they watched as shutters fell over the windows and already bright lights flared with life. Small spherical machines pouring from the ceiling to clean.
The neighboring wall lowered. Revealing to the two men and the cleaners a surgical table.
A slightly disfigured table covered in green sludge that spilled off the sides and piled up on the floor. Smelling of putrefied flesh and… freshly cut grass?
Edmont's nose wrinkled further. And Laun released a soft puff of air. A poorly disguised laugh if ever there was one. He gently shoulder-bumped the distraught scientist. "Don't make that face, Eddie. We might be doing more harm than good, but we'll get there."
"No. No." The scientist waved a hand dismissively. Shoulders sagging wearily. "Part of me is almost glad to see one less clone running about, even if he was a good egg. I'm just… missing them. More than usual."
Ah. Them.
"You know that genetic manipulation is not my forte. Never was. Likely will never be."
Yes, Laun did know this. However, he said nothing. Merely followed along as Edmont navigated his way around the discombobulated lab. To another wall that, with the press of a button, revealed a thin spiral staircase winding up into a darkened room.
Up they went. Allowing the robots to do their business.
"I just don't understand what went wrong." Edmont flipped a switch at the top and illuminated a cramped and (from Laun's perspective) unorganized bedroom. The long desk against the wall covered in piles of scribbled notes and figures. "I thought I'd finally stumbled upon a solution. Instead?"
He didn't say, but Laun could practically hear Edmont screeching. Asking the Gods what would cause an explosion.
Why he was such a disaster with anything biological.
"If they were here, they could tell me what I did wrong." And now came the frustration. Twisting the scientist's face as he swept off the nearest stack of notes. Sitting with an air of defeat in the cleared space. "Or we wouldn't be dealing with any of this at all!"
A stretch of heavy silence.
"What in the fuck was even explosive?!"
And as Edmont pressed his nails to his scalp, digging and tugging at his bright hair, Laun was there. Pulling the dirty man into his chest with a quiet 'shh'. Replacing the dark hands with his considerably paler ones.
"I miss them, as well, Eddie," he finally breathed. "One would think a decade of quietly lamenting their death would have us past this."
"What is a decade to us?"
"True." He took another moment to card his fingers through the scientist's locks. "Eddie, let us clean up. Neither of us smell very pleasant, and I would very much like to spend time with you outside of business."
Now Edmont seemed to perk up the slightest bit. Golden eyes twinkling at Laun's suggestion as he stood. And yes. Now he could smell the putrid stench clinging to his attire. "Anyd?" he called.
No eyes came bulging out of the ceiling, but the soft voice answered. "Yes, Doctor?"
"Please make sure no one disturbs us." Already, his fingers were working loose the tie in the paler Noble's hair. Winding the fabric about his bed post. "Or, at the very least, inform us if someone is coming for a visit."
"As you wish, Doctor." Now an eye popped out. Turning upon them with that grinning stare. "Please remember to bathe well after your activities, Sirs."
"Yes, Mother."
Yes, this is just what they needed. A quiet moment to themselves. To forget about their problems.
It would be enough for now.
The bed groaned loudly as Krista rolled off the side, hand pressed to her lips. Skin beaded with a cold sweat. Stomach churning.
She had hoped that her ailment might leave by this time. Instead, it lingered like an unwanted houseguest. One that had well overstayed its welcome.
Sure, she'd been ill with stomach viruses a handful of times at the orphanage. With so many children in one complex, one would be crazy to assume otherwise.
But this?
She couldn't quite put her finger on why, but this sickness was unlike those.
Unnatural feeling.
Hot water flooded her mouth and she ran the last few steps to the toilet.
And on the bed, legs crossed at the ankles, D listened to her quiet retching. Erembour pressed against his side. Both thinking in the same vein as her.
Sleep coming for neither that night.
While she had not explicitly said as much, they both could see the fear in her eyes as the lights went out. Fear for what? They couldn't say. But it had been there. Clear as day.
As such, the Hunter had elected to occupy the bed for the night. Propped against the headboard. Watching. Ruminating.
And despite the fact that her head was currently hung over a toilet bowl, Krista sincerely appreciated the small act. Because the more blood that came spewing out of her mouth, the more her anxiety rose. And the knowledge that D would be there gave her some modicum of comfort.
The red-headed girl released a shuddering sigh. Flushing the toilet. Rinsing the coppery taste from her mouth. Bloody tired, honestly. But she waited there as her stomach cramps dwindled with a weak gurgle.
Not willing to believe it was over.
With no small amount of trepidation, she chanced a look at the dark mirror.
It was just her. Pale green and blue, almond-shaped eyes staring back.
Wait…
"Since when has my left eye been blue?"
"It's me, dipshit."
Oh.
Perhaps it wasn't just her.
"Can you just go away?"
"Nah."
The fingers of her left hand twitched. Slowly starting up a rhythmic tapping against the basin.
She hated that she had no control over the action.
"What in the…"
Try as she might to stop the hand through sheer force of will, they continued.
Tap tap tap tap.
Tap tap tap tap.
Tap tap tap tap.
Her right hand over the top of the left. Pressing down.
Tap tap tap tap.
Tap tap tap tap.
Tap tap tap tap.
Panic wormed its way through her.
Heart stuttering and stomach rolling.
"Fucking stop!"
A sharp laugh left her lips. Arm now rising above her head.
"Be glad this is all I can do."
The thought almost made her sick again. Tears springing to her eyes as she stared at that bloody limb. And through gritted teeth, she hissed, "Go away!"
"Fine. But only 'cause I'm tired."
The blue faded from her eye. Left arm, suddenly lifeless, swinging downward until her hand slapped against the sink.
It was probably going to leave a bruise. But she couldn't feel any pain to know for certain.
Would it be okay if she just curled up on the floor to cry?
D stared into the dark of the room. Listening to the rain slap against the window pane with each gust of wind.
It had been a good hour since the girl assumed the fetal position in the bed. Wrapped up to her head in the blankets as tightly as possible. Shuddering at first. Silently crying. Before stilling and softly snoring.
The Hunter didn't blame her.
Having checked on her for most of her bathroom runs, he witnessed the entity taking control of her left arm. Watched as she fought.
There was a chance he could help.
Perhaps.
But only if he could delve into her psyche and not absolutely destroy her.
He wasn't sure he was willing to chance breaking her already fragile mind.
But the amount of blood she'd managed to vomit was worrying. In fact, he was almost surprised that her eyes had not yet faded to grey.
Raspy snores rose from the Demon.
D turned his gaze upon Erembour, now lax and sleeping at the foot of the bed. Then to Krista as she gingerly uncovered. Still unconscious. Her typically slower heartrate sitting at a pretty eighty.
She was pale. Terribly so. Any color he'd noted earlier that day washed out.
She appeared thinner, too. Armor loose about her waist. But perhaps it could be attributed to the lighting. As each pale-white scar marring her back from the lashings in Puregon seemed to glare up at him, whereas they didn't seem so prominent beneath the tree.
The girl had probably earned a bit more of his respect that day by putting up such a fight.
He expected her to fight just as vehemently for her own body.
Hand formed in his palm. Twisting about to eye Krista as she slept. "If she doesn't, it might kill her."
It was early morning.
Perhaps.
Laun was almost positive. It left an almost dreadful ache deep inside him. A warning.
A yearning.
He pushed himself upright in the small bed. Taking a moment to shake himself awake and admire the very naked scientist at his side.
Doctor Edmont. A genius analyst. A brilliant chemist.
A terror in most other fields.
Physics: broken.
Genetics: warped.
Perhaps it was because he was, himself, a walking, genetic mess.
Laun found himself taking another moment to drag his fingers through the man's azure hair. Sighing contently at the silky texture.
Because whatever force designed him decreed his hair should be outside the realm of 'normal'.
Gender? Male or female? Why not both? An ability to sew and hips to birth.
Not that anyone besides Laun knew.
His fingers trailed down along Edmont's soft jaw.
He yearned.
Throat burning and teeth aching.
Laun was out of the bed in an instant. Digging into the one drawer reserved for him in Edmont's desk. Deep in the back there was an amber glass bottle. And a quick shake informed him that it still contained a few capsules.
He had his own supply. However, he was not about to call Anyd and traipse about the compound as naked as a picked bird. Not when his patience was so low he couldn't be bothered to dress. And luckily, the supplement the scientist provided him was just enough to keep him satisfied.
In the attached bathroom, he filled a cup with hot water and dropped the vermillion capsule in. Watching it dissolve and dye the water red.
Perfect.
Down it went. The beast momentarily quelled.
In the silence that followed, as he stepped into the bath, his mind awoke. Thinking back a little over ten years in the past.
Thinking of them.
Wishing he never had to be a part of all this.
Especially not in their deaths.
It had started off much the same. A call for them to collect another prospect. But neither Edmont nor Laun were expecting their family to pop up on the docket. At least, not yet.
The airship they took was a fast-traveling transporter. Not built for heavy loads. Able to travel between the furthest ends of each continent in little over half a day.
He stayed awake long into the afternoon to ensure he could warn them. Praying that no one would overhear his panicked whispers to the person on the other end.
When night descended upon them, they'd still not slept. Watching in horror as their airship approached the moderately sized home, painted with a handful of vibrant colors that lost their charm beneath their shadow.
Standard procedure dictated they approach the home in question and obtain the prospect.
Usually of childbearing age.
Sometimes not.
He hated it.
But this time, something was wrong.
In the loading bay, he waited for the all clear to disembark.
None came.
His finger depressed the nearest call button. "Am I allowed to exit the ship?"
The answer was immediate. "Negative, Lord Laun. You'd be caught in the blast."
"Blast?!" he shouted back. "There is no scheduled attack! We're supposed to retrieve!"
"Sorry, m'Lord. Change of plans."
"As of when?!"
A quiet rustle. "A quarter of an hour ago. Upon arrival, the household erected a barrier."
Laun wanted to throw his collected façade out the window. To scream and rage because damn it all, they should have left!
Instead?
"They will lower it if you allow me out to talk to them," he implored, trying to persuade him.
Another voice came through. One that was far less compassionate sounding than the previous. "Lord Laun, it is too late. The cannons are readied, and we will not deviate from our orders. Not with this one."
He was terrified to ask. "Which cannons?"
"One that will deliver an EMP round. One that will be… a bit more destructive."
"You could kill the subject!"
"Oh, I highly doubt that. We're aiming for the front door."
"Please! Reconsider!"
No reply.
"One side, Laun."
The Noble whirled about at the overly chipper voice. Attempting to school his expression into one of disinterest. But wholly horrified at the two people standing behind him.
The brothers. Both handsome enough. Sweet smiles. But they were despicable. Wolves in sheep's clothing, so to speak. "Riedikke. Jarrod. What brings you here?"
The wiry brother smiled wide and passed a hand through his dark hair. "They want to send us in this time. Clean up the riffraff."
The larger brother, aptly described as a mountain of a man, nodded along with his brother's statement. "So, we're gonna knock some heads in."
What in the Hell was becoming of this mission?!
"Then I should come along to collect the prospect."
"Nuh-uh," Riedikke said. Wagging a finger in his face with a smug smile before pressing the same finger into the call button. "Riedikke and Jarrod here. Care to tell Launie what's going on?"
"Can't be bothered to tell him yourselves?"
"He's not gonna believe us."
An audible sigh from the woman. "Jarrod and Riedikke are to depart the ship and eliminate the parents and anyone that might get in their way just after the shield is down. Without your assistance." The shit-eating grin on Riedikke's face grew as the woman continued. "We are no longer aiming for finesse, as we have reason to believe that the people occupying this home have gone against their contract. You will be sent in only once the adversaries have been neutralized."
"So, until then," the farmeresque Noble finished, "just sit back and enjoy the show!"
Out the hatch they jumped.
A moment later, the airship abruptly lurched and rocked. Throwing him to one side. His ears ringing in the sudden, unnatural silence.
A thunderous roar was quick to follow.
He flew for the nearest window that faced the house. Afraid to look.
Afraid to not look.
Where a quaint wooden door once stood now lie a gaping, charred maw. Aglow with dying flames and lights in the house that struggled to maintain their life. The yard leading up to the entrance, once flourishing with pretty flowers and weeds, now blackened and dead.
In the midst of the wreckage stood one broad figure. Staring up at the airship, then out at the two brothers quickly advancing. And he willed the person to run. To flee.
Anything.
Wondering what the Hell they were thinking.
'… just sit back and enjoy the show!'
000
He did not enjoy it. Not one little bit.
It seemed to take entirely too long for the brothers to 'neutralize' the 'adversaries'. And while the people in the control room could hear and see everything through the live feed, they said nothing about what was happening.
Not until that woman was addressing him over the intercom. "They've not yet located the prospect. However, you may now disembark and search the house for anything that might prove useful. And ensure everything is in order for the Council."
As Laun waited for the hatch and prepared to jump, the voice provided him with one more bit of insight. "Last thing. Riedikke has been instructed to wipe the slate clean with this one once found. Ensure this happens."
He wanted to scream.
Instead, he leapt from the airship. Landing with a soft thud on the charred ground. Still warm against the soles of his shoes. Up the blackened path. Into the entryway that crackled and groaned around him.
He turned and made towards the furthest rooms in the house.
First, a guest bedroom. Painted a warm brown. Bed dressed in crisp sheets and a fluffy down comforter. Painfully normal compared to what the outside once was. But still, he half-heartedly rifled through the end table.
As expected, there was nothing.
Next, he went to the only other door on that hall. Stepping into a study birthed from his darkest nightmares.
He wanted to cry.
To vomit in disgust.
To kill those brothers.
He dug through the papers littering the room and drawers.
Nothing.
A loud crash.
Laughter.
High pitched screeches of terror.
His stomach churned. And that's when he heard the largest brother shout, "Brother! I caught the little bitch!"
000
Laun got there in time to stop something truly heinous. To command Riedikke to do his job. That he'd be back in half an hour. Because, as a Leader, he knew Riedikke would not attempt to rape the child for that length of time.
But he had to make an effort to search the home.
Back past the entryway.
Eyeing the head and body of the olive-skinned man. The pale hair stained with blood.
He silently despaired but pressed on. Dipping into the next available room there. Mindlessly searching.
Turning up nothing.
But what did he expect to find in the family room?
He moved on until he stood in the bedrooms. Undisturbed. Mostly. Littered with some dust and bits of plaster knocked loose in the blast, but otherwise, they appeared frozen in time.
He couldn't bring himself to admire the rooms too closely. Merely shuffled through the bits of paper he found. The end tables and dressers. Gently pushed aside small toys. And cursed everyone he could think to curse.
The bathroom was much the same.
He doubled back to the family room and crossed through the dining room into the kitchen.
Seems dinner had been interrupted.
Nothing more of note.
He stepped outside into a wonderfully vibrant garden filled with herbs and seasonal vegetables. Somberly scanning the overgrowth with a sad sense of nostalgia.
But there was nothing.
No other buildings.
Nothing that could 'prove useful'.
Not for the Council.
Not for him and Edmont.
000
Laun was finishing his walk about the house (now checking switches and knobs and bobbles) when Edmont approached him. Expression cold and calculating, but his golden eyes were weary. Haunted. And his typically coffee-colored skin was horribly pale.
They gave each other a once over. Looking for the feeds they could see attached to the brothers. Taking in their appearance.
"How are you holding up?" Edmont eventually breathed.
There wasn't an adequate descriptor for how he felt. With a shake of his head, he hooked his thumbs in his waistcoat and changed the subject. Knowing they could talk without fear of eavesdroppers later. "Are they on the carrier?"
"Yes."
They started for the destroyed entryway.
"Cleaned?"
"Mmm… Define 'clean'."
Laun's eyes went wide. Brows drawn. Lips a thin line.
"I cleaned their tiny little body of all gore. I just didn't expect to find them covered in seminal fluid after fetching them a clean set of clothes."
Edmont watched the ashen-skinned Noble's face contort with rage. Blood light spilling from his sapphire orbs as he scanned the yard for Riedikke. "You'd best be mistaken," he growled. Because while he let the bastard off with a warning after finding him pressed against the child a second time, he would not again.
And it had been over half an hour since that very descriptive warning, so it was entirely plausible he'd been idiotic enough to try something.
As if summoned, the brothers rounded the far corner of the home. Still out of sight. Guffawing and chortling as Riedikke recounted the experience.
Marking the child.
Claiming them as his own.
"It's too bad I didn't have more time with my little kitten. I was really hoping to see just how tight she was!"
"Think you could have shared?"
"Ah, I bet we both could have taken her at once!"
Laun was done. Long past the point of reason.
Once the brothers came into sight, Laun was upon them. Clawing and tearing with an animalistic ferocity. And Edmont watched. Shoulders shaking with mirth as excitement bubbled through his veins.
He took great satisfaction in listening to the brothers scream. Watching their blood paint the surrounding earth.
When one tried to escape, the Noble was there. Dragging them back.
The only thing that was missing was his propensity to rhyme when terribly upset.
It was a long time before Laun had his fill. Thin lips and fingers stained with blood he had no desire to ingest. Too afraid they would somehow spread their taint to him, and he really did not want to start lusting after everything that moved.
Or didn't move.
A distinctly unpleasant shiver ran down his spine as he left the two moaning mauled men lying on the grass and wandered back to the scientist now waiting by the transporter. Looking entirely too pleased. But he sighed. "Please tell me," he started wearily, "that he did not touch the child."
"As far as I can tell. It was only on the belly of the dress."
"Oh, good!" he gasped.
"Yes."
Silence stretched between them. Thick and heavy.
"Laun?" A hum in response. "I've been instructed to stay behind for a few days. Just while the child is being delivered to an orphanage on the Northern Continent. From what I hear, they will have a thrall present her to the director. Make a deal with the man and keep an eye on her until she comes of age."
"Grooming her?"
"To despise Humans? Most likely." He glanced around. Looking for anyone who might overhear before whispering, "I've heard Riedikke will be stationed there. Along with the first of Project Alpha."
"That spells disaster."
And it most certainly had.
Within five years, the First was sitting pretty in the desert town. Leading those stationed with him with ease. They snatched up lone traveling merchants. Beggars. Slaves.
People no one would miss.
But the longer he lorded, the more his derangement revealed itself. Hidden artfully beneath a regal façade until most everyone followed his every word.
A few months before the child's eighteenth birthday, they started culling the town.
Taking anyone they deemed appropriate despite the fact that it was not time.
When they disappeared, all Hell broke loose. From there, the Hunter was on the case.
Something Lord Laun was very thankful for.
A small click interrupted the Noble's thoughts. "M'Lord and Doctor Edmont, you have a visitor. I've attempted to dissuade her, but the most I can do now is give you a few minutes."
Laun leapt out of the bath. Skidding across the tiled floor with a panicked yelp. "Edmont!"
There was a noise to his side. Much like a person wading through chest-high water. And he turned in time to watch a very nude Edmont, eyes wide with terror, dive for the still-full bath. But he didn't have a moment more to spare. Slinging on his attire with a frenzied sort of look.
By the time he stood in the lab, awaiting their visitor, he was very composed.
Externally.
"Anyd, who is visiting?"
Down the hall, he could hear the transporter squeal to a stop.
"Aston, my Lord."
Lord Laun was not one to throw expletives around willy-nilly. But as his face contorted, twisted by distaste and annoyance, he was not afraid to say a few. And when Edmont finally sped down the stairs and attempted to look deep in thought over some charred notes, it was a look he recognized well.
"No."
"Yes."
Edmont soon matched his lover's expression. Both of them wondering if they could escape before it was too late.
"Lord Laun! Doctor!" a cheery voice called out.
They cringed harder.
It should be a crime to sound so deceptively sweet.
November 12, 13,012
Morning light filtered into the tavern room. Bronze colored walls appearing ablaze.
The covers undulated. A tuft of messy crimson hair sinking further into the mound. Further away from the cool hand attempting to press against her forehead.
A slim hand appeared briefly to wave dismissingly at the Hunter by her side.
"Go 'way."
Her answer was a soft hum.
The covers began lifting from the bed.
"No!" Krista screeched. Clinging to the duvet as if her life depended upon it. But with a final tug, she was flopping loose with a small whine. Chilled and wondering why she couldn't just sleep. So with a childish puff of her flushed cheeks, she crossed her arms and glowered up at the man. Enjoying the cool touch even if she was upset by being disturbed.
"So… what's your verdict?"
He softly clucked his tongue. "You could use some fresh air."
"But that's all we get," she grumbled. But with her nausea near gone, the only thing keeping her so obstinate was her exhaustion. As Erembour gingerly crawled atop her, she laughed. "See? Demon agrees we needs sleeps, not airs."
One stern look from D had the Demon changing his mind. Shrinking with a pop and climbing up to the stoic man's shoulder. Briefly changing into a black parrot. Just long enough to squawk and strut about. Plume raised. Looking rather happy and at home on his perch.
A pirate captain and his parrot.
"Argh!" Krista suddenly cried. Springing to her feet with a sudden flourish. "As you command, Cap'n!"
They watched as the red-headed girl scurried about the room. Slipping on her borrowed shirt. Securing the belt overtop. Slinging on her cloak. And screeching to a halt once she came to her boots. Eventually opting to go barefoot.
"Not worried about the rain? Or your feet getting cold?" asked Hand.
She hummed and shrugged. "Not really, I guess. Besides!" She grabbed hold of D's arm and attempted to tug him to the door. Failing terribly, but not giving up. "A little water never hurt anyone!"
"Captain!"
A wet smack filled the air.
"Cap'n!"
A dull thud. And a low moan left her trembling lips. "Oh! Right in the kidney, Cap'n!"
A laugh erupted from Hand. D's combative stance momentarily shaken. "You're being awfully dramatic today, kid. That was your solar plexus."
"I like dramatic!" she said. She settled into a stance much like D's, with her fists at eye level and elbows tucked in. Though she doubted he had much of a need for it, his reflexes quick and awe-inspiring. However, having something to copy helped.
Distantly, a single child frolicked. The day far too wet and dreary for most others. On such a day as this, they had no want for solitary. The park at their disposal, so to speak.
A sharp smack sent her reeling.
"You're distracted," D remarked. "Perhaps another activity."
"Aww! But I wanna learn! I promise I'll pay attention, Captain!"
The Hunter eyed the smaller person pouting up at him.
Yes, she had been the one to insist they spar. That he teach her defensive and offensive hand-to-hand combat. A few hours had passed since they began, but she'd been rather absentminded for the past hour.
Considering her bout of sickness, he did not think it wise to keep indulging her. God forbid he smack her stomach a bit too hard and make her vomit everywhere.
"Another day," he promised.
"Well, I still wanna do something."
He cast a sidelong glance at the tiered chin-up bars. With a small incline of the head, he led her to the equipment. Silently suggesting simple climbing and balancing. But… hmm… Perhaps that would prove too strenuous as well.
Although, she didn't seem inclined to just cool down if she was outside. Strange how she wanted to sleep and do nothing, but now she couldn't be bothered to sit still.
"… she is confounding," murmured Erembour.
To this, D could agree.
It was too late.
With a squeal, Krista leapt past them. Clinging to the middle bar. The chipped and mottled green paint flecking off in her hands as she swung to and fro. Wet, mildly muddy toes wiggling with her glee.
A slight vibration caught her attention. So very minute she almost assumed she'd caused it. But she looked up. Watching in wonder as the Hunter stood tall upon the highest tier. Perfectly at ease upon the slim bar.
He jerked his chin up, and while she could not outright say the look he gave her was expectant, for a man so inexpressive, it came close. "You want me to come up?"
"If you can."
"… alright. If you stink so."
He watched as she slung her slim leg up. Flailing a bit in her attempt to pull her self into a seated position. Slowly wriggling until she was crouched on the balls of her feet, unsteady and panting.
"Alright," she gasped, fingers tightening their grip. "I made it, Captain!"
"Try to stand."
She released a rather ugly noise. Staring up at him with a look that clearly accused him of being mental. But she tried. Wobbling. Arms pinwheeling comically. Rear in the air as she squeaked and struggled.
Hand resisted the urge to goose her.
"Gods! If I had half your sense of balance!"
She was finally up. Smiling uncertainly. And with a small bit of alarm, D noted that one eye was most definitely not green.
"What's with that look, D?"
Was he giving her a look?
"Your eyes are just a bit… narrowed. Like you're upset."
A short pause as D revealed nothing.
But then, he didn't have to say anything as her left arm quivered.
She felt like vomiting again. Panic rising and crawling up her throat.
"No! No, no, no! You stop that right fucking now!"
The trembling ceased.
But she waited. Staring at the limb like it was a wild animal.
"D?"
"Come down," he softly commanded.
"Yeah. Sure. Sounds good."
She stretched down. Reaching for something to brace herself against.
There was never time.
Her left leg kicked out, slinging her off the bar with a startled yelp. And any attempt to catch herself ended in a cramp to end all cramps. Instead, D was there to break her fall. Gently settling her upon her feet but not releasing his hold on her.
Probably for the best.
The entirety of her being seemed to vibrate in his hold. Perhaps induced by nerves.
Perhaps because she was slowly losing control over her own body. Eyes closed tight as she concentrated. Quietly pleading for everything to stop.
A handful of minutes that seemed to take hours passed. And gradually, everything came to a standstill.
No shaking.
No pleading.
Only a soft sigh of relief.
But D could smell it.
It wasn't something he would have immediately noticed had she not been bleeding. But as it was, she turned her head to one side and spit out a mouthful of it.
Her blood smelled sour.
That is not to say that it smelled foul.
No, the stoic man found his hunger rising to the surface almost as quickly as any other time he found himself dealing with her blood. But there was a distinct difference between what he'd smelled the previous day when she'd busted her face against the ground and now.
Krista smelled of sweets. A favorite candy or ripe melon you could eat yourself sick on.
This was more like sour candy. Or a tart fruit. Something tangy enough to be just as addicting.
While the Hunter would never admit such a thing aloud, both made his mouth water.
But the sour was not Krista.
"Who are you?"
For a moment, she continued to hack and spit up blood. Eyes he knew to be blue pinched with pain. But eventually, a sultry smirk curved her lips. "Ask me that two days ago and I wouldn't've known. But it's Rhea. And it's so good to be out."
Now she turned her electric eyes upon him. Studying him as if seeing him for the first time. And in her half-lidded gaze was a primal look that could make any normal, sane man weak in the knees as she cupped the back of his head. Fingers weaving through his dark hair.
She was surprised he did not immediately pull back. "Think you could get used to me, D? I think I'd be a better companion in the long run. In every sense of the word."
The Hunter thumbed her lip in lieu of an answer. Dragging it down gently. Slowly.
Any attempt at being alluring flew out the window as D suddenly pulled down her bottom eyelid. Clucking his tongue in distaste.
"You are killing her."
"Um. No. I am killing us." She snorted. Drawing away from his touch. "If she'd just let go, it wouldn't be so bad."
The right side of her body began twitching. Shaking her balance. And her heart flubbed. Beating faster than normal, but weak. Irregular.
"You are too weak to continue suppressing her."
Despite all this, as if to prove a point, black began staining typically blood-red hair. Blue eyes shining with her excitement as her once attractive smile became all teeth and she pointed a slim finger at the man. "For now. But I'll tell ya what! Y'all better pray that this ditz can dig herself out of the Hellhole I'll stomp her ass into when I get more strength! Because at this point, it's just a matter of 'when'!"
She laughed. A sharp bark of noise that ended in a stomach-churning retch. Blood pouring past her parted lips.
And as all life fled her limbs, D caught her. Watching as cornflower blue eyes faded to a pale grey and stared blankly upon the world.