We're back. Nothing much to say. Enjoy the story.
LEGEND:
Italic Text denotes Lucy speaking in voiceover (This will be important as the story progresses)
Kill Rogue volume 1
Chapter 1: 2
Four years, nine months later.
It was a quiet afternoon in the sleepy little Pasadena suburb when a massive, gaudy, yellow truck rolled into the neighborhood. The thing was an eyesore with red and orange hot rod flames painted on the hood and sides. Along the side and the back of the vehicle, in bright neon pink was the phrase, "Pussy Wagon." Lucy Heartfilia cringed whenever she had to use the damn thing, but a vehicle was a vehicle, and it did serve its purpose. But, admittedly, first chance she'd get, she'd trade it in for something– well, anything really– else.
The hideous truck pulled up outside a quaint little green house. It was like something out of a sitcom from the 50s about the perfect nuclear family. Neatly kept lawn that was littered with children's toys; a sandbox, a swing set, and the like. At the edge of the lawn, in front of the sidewalk, there was a quaint little mailbox that displayed the house's address and the name "Akatsuki."
Shutting the car off, Lucy got out. She was dressed very casually in a dark red tank top, a beige jacket over it, along with blue jeans and sneakers. The only thing that stood out was the full knife holster wrapped around her right thigh.
Lucy made her way to the front door, determination burning in her brown eyes. She pressed the doorbell, hearing the chime from the other side of the door. In the brief silence that followed, Lucy took a look behind her at the toys littering the front lawn. It was about two o'clock, possibly closer to three. The child would still be at school. There was only one car in the driveway. Perfect. She'd be alone.
"Coming!" A voice called from inside the house, bringing Lucy's attention back. The click of a lock, and the turn of the knob. "Karen, I cannot believe you are early." Then the door opened.
The woman on the other side froze. She was buxom, much like Lucy was. She long pink hair that was teased up in the back and held back by a black headband. She had big, expressive blue eyes which showed just how shocked she was. Like Lucy, she was casually dressed, donning a dark purple sweater and black sweat pants.
Neither woman said anything. Lucy only glared and the pink haired woman remained shocked. But looking into each others eyes, they saw the exact same thing:
Four years ago. The Fairy Tail chapel of El Paso, Texas. Lucy beaten to the floor in a crumpled heap in her bloody wedding dress, and the pink haired woman glaring down at her.
"L-Lucy?" The woman hesitated when she finally spoke.
"Hi Sherry." Lucy returned the greeting before punching her in the face.
The woman, Sherry, staggered back into the house. Lucy stepped in after her, throwing the door shut behind her. No witnesses. She lifted her leg to kick at Sherry, but Sherry was ready this time, swatting it away with her hand. But that left her open to another punch to the face.
When Lucy went for a third punch though, Sherry grabbed her wrist and her arm. With an exhale of "Hi-yah!" Sherry spun around, lifting Lucy off the ground and throwing her into a wall.
Lucy gasped out as her back hit a mounted photo. Glass shattered. She fell from the wall, landing on an entertainment stand which collapsed under her. Vinyl records as well as CDs went flying and Lucy was sure she landed on a turntable before she rolled onto the floor. She gritted her teeth. Pain was to be expected. But still, she'd been out of the game for so long, she couldn't hold it back like she used to. Still, she tried to focus her mind away from the pain.
A perfect opportunity to do so arouse as Sherry was over her, leg raised. She brought it down for a kick, but Lucy was quickly able to cross her arms in front of her, blocking the blow. The blonde saw another opening to attack. She raised her leg to a kick between Sherry's leg. It wouldn't hurt like kicking a man, but it would still hurt. And when Sherry stepped back, hunching over, Lucy aimed another kick at her head. The kick was stronger than Lucy anticipated, not that that was a bad thing. It sent Sherry careening back over a sofa and crashing into her glass coffee table, shattering it.
Lucy was quick to recover. Getting back to her feet, she jumped over the couch. But Sherry was ready. Grabbing the wooden leg from her recently destroyed coffee table, she swung it, hitting Lucy's shin with great force. Lucy cried out, collapsing to her knees. Sherry went to swing again, this time for her head. Lucy ducked the swing, falling onto her back. Sherry was on top of her, going for another blow. Lucy grabbed Sherry's wrists, stopping it. The blonde then lifted her leg, bracing her foot on Sherry's chest. She summoned her strength using her foot to flip Sherry off of her.
Rolling around, Lucy climbed on top of Sherry, wrapping her arm around her neck and began to strangle her. Sherry began to gasp, trying in vain to shake Lucy off of her. As she gasped and choked, the pinkette fell forward in a weak attempt to crawl away.
To Sherry's benefit, it brought her right in front of her fireplace. She gave up on fighting Lucy at the moment, reaching an arm up. Her fingers just managed to grasp the poker. With all her strength, Sherry swung the poker behind her, stroking the blonde in the back. It took a second hit for Lucy to release her with a hiss.
Sherry was the quicker one this time, rising to her feet. She lunged at Lucy with the poker, but the blonde was able to dodge the blow. Grasping the end of the poke, Lucy threw another kick at Sherry, knocking her back.
Looking back, Sherry saw that she'd hit a glass shelf bookcase displaying some books, photos, trophies and the like. Pivoting around it, Sherry pulling it down on Lucy, forcing the blonde into a crouch as it broke around her. She was beginning to question why glass furniture was so fucking popular in the first place. Rising out of the rubble, Lucy realized Sherry ran out of the room and into the kitchen.
Giving chase, Lucy barely had a chance to register the attack coming at her from the side. Sherry swung at her with a knife and Lucy only just dodged it.
"What are you gonna do now?" Sherry spat, taunting Lucy as she swung her knife.
Taking a swipe at her head, Lucy ducked under the blow. Pulling her arm back, Sherry went for a stab. Lucy spun out of the way; the purpose of the spin really being to find something to fend the pinkette off. Lucy grabbed a cast iron frying pan off the stove and met Sherry's next blow.
"I owned your ass bitch!" Sherry snarled, recalling the event four years ago. "Remember that?!" She continued to taunt.
Lucy was forced back, dueling against Sherry. Sherry's skills with knives were second to none, Lucy had to begrudgingly admit. She was fast too, forcing Lucy into a defensive stance, blocking incoming blows. Lucy was being pushed back out of the kitchen and into the dining room. Lucy thought she saw an opening and swung the frying pan at her, but she was wrong. Sherry was much faster and sliced at Lucy's outstretched arm. Wincing at the feeling of sudden warmth running down her arm, Lucy dropped the pan.
Sherry was on the offensive now. Raising the knife, she moved to stab at Lucy, only for the blonde to catch her wrists. But Sherry had a counter ready. With Lucy focused on her hands and the knife, Sherry kicked her, sending her flying back onto the dining room table. Sherry jumped after her, hoping to end this, but Lucy rolled off the table, just in time for the knife to be impaled through the table.
Lucy rolled underneath the table. Quickly, her hand went to the sheath around her thigh, pulling out the hunting knife she'd brought and jammed it up through the table, but she could tell she missed Sherry. This was beginning to drag now, and Lucy could feel herself becoming exhausted. Mustering up the reserves of her strength, Lucy pulled the table onto its side, pulling her knife. Getting to her feet, Lucy climbed back onto her feet, jumping over her table.
They'd come full circle now, going out the dining room from its other exit and back into the newly destroyed dining room. Sherry was slowly inching backwards, the butcher knife raised at her.
"Come on bitch!" Sherry coaxed, just daring her to try it.
Lucy flipped the knife in her hand, holding it upside down. The two were at a stalemate, standing just out of reach of each other. Blades raised. Occasionally, either woman would inch closer trying to swing at each other, only for the other to step back out of reach. The fight, though brief, had taken its toll on both of them. They were both sweaty, clothes torn, and covered in cuts.
Suddenly, they were both pulled out of the tunnel vision they'd had in trying to kill each other. Outside of the large bay window at the front of the house, both women saw in their peripheral vision a school bus stopping in front of the house. Looking back at Sherry, Lucy could see fear in her big, blue eyes.
Looking back out of the window, Lucy saw a small child exit the bus. She looked somewhere between four and six. She also had pink hair, which was pulled into two pigtails, tied with bows. She was wearing a pretty white shirt and a blue skirt, lugging a backpack behind her. Looking back to her opponent, Sherry was on the verge of tears. Silently, she shook her heard, pleadingly. Lucy, perhaps too mercifully, nodded in understanding, silently answering her unspoken question.
All it took was the click of her doorknob. Lucy moved to stand beside Sherry (still out of reach of each other), and both of them moved to hide their knives behind her backs.
"Mommy, I'm home." The child called as she opened the door.
"Hey honey." Sherry put a smile on her face, hiding what had just happened. "How was school?"
The girl didn't answer the question. She just starred behind the two women to the scene of carnage behind her.
"Mommy?" She asked, ignoring the question. "What happened to you and the TV room?"
Lucy almost had to admire how quick Sherry was. "That good-for-nothing dog of yours," she chuckled, Lucy picking up on her nervousness, "he got in her and started acting like a fool. That's what happened honey."
The girl's expression changed to one of confusion as she stepped forward. "Plue did all of this."
Sherry quickly raised her hand and stepped forward, stopping her daughter. "Honey, you can't come in here. There's broken glass everywhere, and you could cut yourself."
It was then that the child's blue eyes, so much like her mother's, turned to Lucy. Realizing what she was looking at, Sherry ran damage control. "This is an old friend of mommy's, that I haven't seen in a long time."
Lucy realized she'd have to play along. "Hello there." She gulped. "My name is Lucy. What's yours?"
The girl didn't answer. She only starred, curious at the woman.
"Her name is Sherria." Sherry answered.
"Oh, Sherria." Lucy said hesitantly, trying the name out. "What a pretty name for a pretty girl. How old are you?" She sounded like one of those women awkwardly trying to make conversation with a friend's daughter.
Sherria still starred. It was like she trying to figure out what was going on. Did she not believe Sherry and Lucy? Did she see through the (admittedly, thinly veiled) lie?
"Sherria," Sherry took on that motherly, scolding tone, "Lucy asked you a question."
"I'm four." She answered.
"Oh, four years old." Lucy found herself getting choked up. A lump forming in her throat. One thing she'd learned long ago was to never betray her emotions. And yet, what had happened four years ago came back to her. Especially the greatest pain of that day in El Paso. "You know, I had a little girl once. She'd be about four now."
Sherry knew exactly what Lucy was talking about. Figuring it was time to do damage control and end this, she knelt down in front of her daughter.
"Now, sweetie." She placed her free hand on Sherria's shoulder. "Mommy's friend and I need to talk about grown-up things. So I need you to go upstairs to your room, close the door, and don't come down until I tell you to. Can you do that for me please?"
Sherria didn't answer. Once again, she looked from her mother back to Lucy.
"Sherria!" Sherry exclaimed, snapping her fingers, commanding her attention. "Please, go upstairs to your room, now."
Sherry rose back to her feet as Sherria turned obediently away and went upstairs to her room. Lucy and Sherry watched until she vanished upstairs. They waited another moment until they heard the door close.
It was amazing, really. As soon as the child left, the tension that had filled the air since the fight seemed to evaporate. Sherry sighed, slumping her shoulders as she turned to face Lucy. The exhaustion was evident.
"You want some coffee?" She offered out of the blue.
Lucy thought for a moment. Then, she sheathed her knife, holding up her hands as a sign of truce, displaying she was unarmed. "Sure." She accepted, then followed her into the kitchen.
"This Pasadena homemaker's name is Sheila Akatsuki. Her husband is doctor Ren Akatsuki. But, back when I knew her, four years ago, when we were both assassins, her name was Sherry Blendy. Her code name was Copperhead. Mine, Black Mamba."
Raising her hand, Lucy looked at the cut on her arm with a hiss. "Do you have a towel?" She asked.
"Oh, sure." Sherry quickly dug around in a drawer, pulling out a dish towel and giving to Lucy, who wrapped it around her arms to staunch the wound.
"Do you still take cream and sugar?" Sherry asked as she poured a cup, seemingly having the coffee pot ready, she seemed to be expecting something before Lucy showed up. At Lucy's nod, Sherry seasoned the coffee and offered the mug to Lucy. Lucy sipped slowly, leaning on the counter.
"I suppose it's a little late for an apology." Sherry said, being rhetorical as she started trying to wash dishes.
"You suppose correctly." Lucy answered coldly.
Sherry gave up on the dishes, her focus not really being there. "Look bitch," she snapped, "I need to know if you're going to start anymore shit in front of my baby girl."
The mama bear act may have intimidated others, but not a trained assassin. "You can relax for now." She said, unfazed. "I'm not going to murder you in front of your child."
"That..." Sherry was taken aback, given what had just happened. "That's more rational than Rogue led me to believe you were capable of."
"It's mercy, compassion, and forgiveness I lack." Lucy's voice was calm, metered as she recited essentially the assassin's credo. "Not rationality."
The pair were silent, the only sound Lucy sipping her coffee. Sherry paced, fidgeting. She looked out the kitchen window.
"I know I fucked you over." She finally said. "I fucked you over bad. I wish to God I hadn't, but I did. And you have every right to want to get even."
Lucy nearly spat up, lowering the mug from her lips. She couldn't help but laugh. "No." She shook her head. "No no no no." Calming down, she looked up at the pinkette. "You think I wanna get even?" She asked. "To get even, I would have to kill you." Slowly, with every word, Lucy's voice became more venomous. "Go up to Sherria's room and kill her. Then, wait for your husband, the good Dr. Akatsuki, to come home and kill him." She narrowed her eyes, glaring at Sherry. "That would be 'even' Sherry!"
"If I could go back in a machine, I would, but I can't!" Sherry spat. "All I can say is that I'm a different person now."
"Oh great." Lucy countered with a big, sarcastic grin. But it dropped quickly. "I don't care."
"Be that as it may, I know I don't deserve your mercy or forgiveness," Sherry grabbed a photo off the windowsill of her and Sherria and held it up to Lucy, "but I beseech you both on the behalf of my daughter!"
Lucy laughed again. "Bitch!" She snapped. "You can stop right there! Just because I have no wish to murder you before the eyes of daughter does not mean parading her around in front of me is going to inspire sympathy!"
How cold her voice suddenly got made Sherry flinched inwardly, but she didn't show it. "You and I have unfinished business, and not a goddamn fucking thing you've done in the past four years is going to change that! And that includes getting knocked up!"
Sherry sighed, defeated. No pleading or begging. There was no escaping this. Resigning herself to her fate, she leaned across the counter, meeting Lucy's brown eyes. "So...when do we do this?" She asked.
"It all depends." Lucy answered. "When do you want to die? Tomorrow? The day after tomorrow?"
Sherry responded immediately, coming up with an idea. "How about tonight, bitch?"
"Splendid. Where?"
"There's a baseball diamond about a mile north of here where I coach little league." Sherry explained. "We'll meet there around two-thirty in the morning dressed all in black, our hair in black stockings, and ski masks. And we'll have us a knife fight."
"Now, if you'll excuse me," she held up a spoon, the sudden action making Lucy flinch, expecting an attack, "I have to prepare Sherria's cereal."
Lucy left the counter and leaned against the wall, watching as Sherry moved around the kitchen. Not wanting things to be silent, she tried to make conversation. Not always easy with an enemy.
"Rogue said you were one the best women he ever saw with an edged weapon."
"Fuck you, bitch!" It was Sherry's turn to scoff. "I know he didn't qualify that shit." She reached into a cabinet, pulling out a cereal box. "So you, can kiss my ass, Black Mamba." She rolled her eyes. "I should have been the fucking Black Mamba."
"Weapon of choice?" Lucy went on, ignoring Sherry's rant. "If you want to stick with that butcher knife, that's fine."
"Very funny, bitch." Sherry chuckled. Lucy found herself smiling as well.
But the moment ended instantly.
"VERY FUNNY!" Sherry suddenly raised his arm, buried a box of cereal. The bottom of the box burst apart as a gunshot burst from it. Thankfully, because Sherry acted so fast, she didn't get the chance to aim. Lucy kicked herself mentally. She'd let herself get complacent.
The knife fight was off. It was time to act. Letting her coffee fall from her hands, Lucy lifted her leg to kick it, launching it across the kitchen. Sherry stepped to the side, dodging the flying mug just in time. But the act really made something, Lucy had been hoping for; an opening. Pulling her knife out once more, Lucy threw it. Spinning through the air, the blade panted itself firmly in Sherry's chest. The force of the throw pushed Sherry back against the wall before she slowly slid to the floor.
It was over.
Lucy crossed the kitchen, the cereal crunched under her feet. She stood over Sherry, who seemed to be clinging to life. Weakly, the pink-haired woman raised her head. But her eyes were unfocused, not even looking at Lucy. She watched for another moment as her eyes went dark and her head slumped. Only then did Lucy pull the knife from her chest.
The air in the room changed considerably. It wasn't relief, like Lucy was expecting. And then her body stiffened. She had forgotten another pivotal rule of being an assassin: always be aware of your surroundings. Lucy turned around.
And there was Sherria.
Her blue eyes were wide. Mouth open. But she was silent. No gasp. No crying. No tears. She looked from her mother's corpse up to Lucy. She was in shock, Lucy could tell. That wouldn't last long. And yet, beneath the shock and possible fear, Lucy could also still see that same curiosity she saw earlier.
Sighing, Lucy just grabbed another towel to wipe off her knife. "It was not my intention to do that in front of you." She admitted truthfully. "For that, I am sorry." She mustered up all the sympathy she could, trying to be earnest with her. "But take my word for it, your mother had it coming."
Thoroughly cleaned, Lucy sheathed the knife again and moved to leave. She stopped, standing beside Sherria, who looked up at her. Lucy sighed. She knew what would happen. But, Lucy herself had lost her daughter. How would the girl live with losing her mother? There was only one thing Lucy could think of to console her.
She placed her hand on the girl's shoulder and made her an offer. "When you get older, if you still feel raw about it, come find me."
Lucy left the house and climbed back into the garish Pussy Wagon. She leaned forward, gripping the wheel, and sighed. She could linger for a moment. Depending on what happened– whether Sherria herself called the cops, or remained shocked silent until her father came home– she would be long gone before anyone arrived to help or investigate. But for now, she really just needed this moment to decompress.
Taking several deep breaths, Lucy reached over for a spiral notebook. It only had the front page filled out with a list of five names scribbled on it. The first name already crossed out.
DEATH LIST FIVE
Kagura Mikazuchi
AKA Cottonmouth
Sherry Blendy
AKA Copperhead
Sting
AKA Sidewinder
Dimaria Yesta
AKA California Mountain Snake
Rogue
AKA Snake Charmer
Opening the glove box, Lucy pulled out a Sharpie and drew a line through Sherry's name.
Putting the notebook and marker away, Lucy took one last look at the house. Her mind went back to Sherria once more. The poor child. Now, she'd have to spend the rest of her life without her mother, just like Lucy would have to spend the rest of her life without her daughter.
Still thinking about Sherria and her own unborn daughter, Lucy's mind suddenly drifted to a particular teaching one of her many teachers had given her. A lesson that steeled her resolve:
"For those regarded as warriors,
When engaged in combat, the vanquishing of thine enemy can be the warrior's only concern. Suppress all human emotion and compassion. Kill whoever stands in thy way, even if that be Lord God or Buddha himself!
This truth lies at the heart of the heart of combat."
Turning the key in the ignition, the engine roared to life, and Lucy drove away with no intention of returning.
Two down, three to go.
I figured I'd keep the voiceover thing. Since, in canon, Lucy is a writer, I thought it would still work.
Feedback welcome.