Disclaimer: Do not own Black Lagoon

Warnings for child abuse, stalking, rape, murder and death

Unholy:

Part one:

Death's paramour

Rebecca Mary Lee had never given much thought about how she would die. Okay, that was a lie. Given what her life was like? She kept being sure that she would die horribly. Either by being beaten to death by her piece of shit of a father, or getting so drunk that she either got alcohol poisoning or stumbled into the middle of the road and got hit by a car.

But she figured that that was what was going to happen to her. She never really thought of her death coming for her as anything else.

Her life sucked, was the point. That was just something she had come to accept.

Her father currently was sleeping. And Revy had been sure she had been on her way to death, when she had felt that glass bottle be bashed against her skull, the glass flying everywhere and she felt warm liquid sliding down her face.

She slowly came to a stop before the sidewalk and sat down on it, gripping her head, clenching in pain.

She groaned into her hand.

She thought that the night couldn't get much worse.

But that was when a police car stopped next to the sidewalk, and a light was shined on her.

She was soon hauled off to the police station.

She tried struggling, but the police officer had her arms cuffed behind her and he kicked her in the stomach, sending her to the floor of the jail cell she was in.

She had an idea of what he was going to do, but she desperately hoped she was wrong.

When she heard the piece of shit's belt be opened, and zipper of his pants be pulled down, she knew that she had been right.

She grit her teeth, trying not to let the bile in her throat, out.

She wouldn't cry. She would. Not. Cry.

She wouldn't give this fucker the satisfaction.

She thought she could stop herself from crying. But the violation drove her to tears. Only a few, but enough.

She heard the cop chuckle above her as he moved low to her face, after finishing, licking her tears from her eyes.

Rebecca was barely able to keep her bile down.

Then she finally was left at the side of the road, after the cop was done with her.

Rebecca, when the cop drove off, kneeled down and brought her knees to her chest, feeling sick.

Some part of her…just wanted to die.

She could feel how weak she was. She wasn't sure she'd even be able to get back to the apartment.

She had no idea how reassuring that was. She wasn't much safer at her apartment with her drunkard of a father, either.

There was an odd, cold feeling against her back, and she stiffened, gasping, tears still in her eyes as she looked up at where she felt the cold sensation against her back.

There was a dark figure at her back. Tall, wide-shouldered, with long blonde hair, and scars all over, with piercing blue eyes.

Rebecca stared up at the figure, her sickness and horror, for half a moment, forgotten.

She had the sense that she was before something old. Extremely old.

Who-?

The harsh, icy blue eyes of the figure, the figure wreathed in red, seemed to lift those eyebrows of her for a moment, as if surprised by something, and Rebecca had no idea what, but Rebecca asked, not caring anymore about consequences, deciding that she'd had enough of everyone's bullshit, "Who the fuck are you?"

A slight turn of the woman's lips appeared, and she then spoke, her voice cool and controlled, "Do you wish to die, girl?"

Rebecca's eyes widened and she tried to move back from the woman, but her reflexes were unfortunately not too good at the moment, on account of having been beaten twice in one day, and feeling like her bruised inner thighs were going to break.

"That is not a threat," the woman specified, "It's a question. I can make the pain go away, if you want. But it has to be your choice, and be at your hand. Or you can send your father to his death."

Rebecca stared at the woman.

The woman answered, "I am death. I take everyone. I will take you eventually, one day. But I don't want to take you yet. Too young. But you can give me your father, instead. And survive long enough."

What was said to her, would not be understood by the beaten girl, for several years. She would understand eventually. But not now.

There was flash of shadowy movement and the tall woman was gone.

Rebecca was left there, looking around, searching for any sight of the woman.

She saw no one. She grunted, "What the fuck? Is my brain damaged?"

She wouldn't be surprised by now if her brain was in fact, damaged as fuck. But if it was, there wasn't much she could do about it, you know?

Not like her dirtbag of a father would spend anything more than a quarter on her wellbeing.

And even if he was, they were dirt poor, anyway.

But hallucination or not?

That woman that may or may not-but probably was a figment of Rebecca's fucked up by now brain, had made a good point.

And if it was all in Rebecca's increasingly damaged head, then wasn't that all the more fucking reason to do as the figment had instructed?

Kill her father?

Get rid of one of the biggest problems in her life.

She knew one thing-her father had a gun stashed away under his bed. One that she had grabbed and tended to fire with at cans and bottles behind their apartment building.

Rebecca knew deep down that she had been preparing for this, but still hadn't accepted it.

But she had been.

She was going to kill her father.

Forcing herself up from the sidewalk, she dragged herself to the apartment building and carried herself up to her old man's apartment, got in, grabbed the gun from under the bed, noting that her fucker of a father was still asleep, and grabbed a pillow, placing it over his face as she cocked the hammer back, placed the cannon of the gun against the pillow, and fired.

Rebecca had told herself that her putting the pillow over her father's face had been to keep the gunshot from being heard only.

But even then, she knew that she had put the pillow over his head for more reasons than just that.

She hadn't wanted to see his face when she had pulled the trigger.

Wasn't that the most fucked up thing? He had bashed her face in with a bottle, regularly hit her and threatened her and told her that she was the reason her mother had left them, when Rebecca was only five, and yet she still hadn't wanted to see his face when she killed him-didn't want to see him bleed from his head.

And she knew she couldn't end up back in prison again.

Unfortunately, she was caught.

So, she did what she had to do to survive.

She didn't know what that thing was that she had seen, when she had been in utter pain and had seen that woman by the sidewalk; a ghost created by her abused brain, or something else entirely, she didn't know, but she knew that she had only two options; lay down and die, or do what she had to, to survive.

So, she did what she had to.

She pleasured as many women in prison as she could, to keep herself safe. And when she had the chance, she escaped.

She got away from America, all the way to Thailand. Got a job in some city at the end of the world, Roanapur.

And then she was found at this job at a strip club, by her next employer. A man named Dutch.

After all that time, Rebecca never forgot her odd encounter with the woman that called herself "death," but she had all but considered it simply her imagination due to a near concussion.

But she would learn soon that she was wrong.

As Rebecca, who had come to call herself, after becoming a successful gunwoman, Revy Two Hands, lounged on the couch, now twenty-five, Dutch, and their newest recruit, who Revy had rescued, Benny, moved around the company, it was unknown to her that she was being watched, and not just by her coworkers.

Death watched, and waited.

She sent her minions, beings that took on names such as "Boris," and "Eugene" and "Pyotr" and the like.

Death herself? She called herself "Balalaika." She had taken many names over the centuries.

But to the woman who Death had chosen to be her bride one day? The young woman who was her paramour, who Balalaika had recognized the moment she had seen those gold-brown eyes? She would simply call herself Balalaika.

Until it was Rebecca's time to leave her flesh and enter into the world of the dead, Balalaika would have to bide her time.