Shattered Soul and Heart

Corone-The Sword an Staff

I was flung into the rain, body thrown limply into the dirt. I wasn't able to catch myself and I could feel the cold mud smear across my cheek. His words were as cold and ruthless as the day I had met him. I suppose whatever equality we had was gone. Or perhaps, as Amari - I only thought we had it. It..was hard to tell... my mind was fuzzy and my face felt flushed, and heated. Rain pelted my back and quickly soaked through the thick velvet dress I wore. The cold leeched into my skin and it alleviated the heat that was swimming around inside of me. I felt like I was on fire. My body churned with the searing sensations of my own soul. It felt similar to healing, but - I was not injured?

"Get up. Slave."

Sore muscles shook as I slowly pushed myself off the ground. Words spewed from my mouth like a vile vomit. "You're going to die." The words caught his ire and I felt the strong grip of his glove around my neck pressing down on my trachea and forcing me to look up at him. Emerald eyes thin and worn stared back at me. Dark circles lined them. He was tired, he was at the end of his ropes.

Dots danced in front of my eyes and my head remained fuzzy. I was barely aware of my own actions. Trembling hands reached out to cup the pale and scarred skin of his cheeks. Thumbs danced gently beneath his eyes. He tightened his grip.

In response six snakes sprung forth from my back, I didn't even will it. They hissed and encircled him like a vermilion chrysanthemum with the two of us at the apex of its center. Onset nausea and dizziness came with their appearance and I struggled to stay conscious. What was I doing? Why were my hands on his face caressing him as though he were a lover?

A cough was forced through my lips, followed by strained words, each syllable a gasp as I tried to inhale the air I was so easily denied. I could do it, it'd be so easy. He was weak and vulnerable, I would be able to end his existence right here and not a single person would care. He had no one. He had nothing. So then, why did these words come out of my mouth?

"I... don't want you to...die..." The words spluttered through black stained trembling lips.

I wasn't sure if he threw me backwards or if I simply fell. Body no longer listening to my own will. The corrupted manifestation of my soul; the snakes, crackeld and faded from existence as I once again found myself on the ground, splayed across it like spilt wine. Eyes staring listlessly at the cloudy sky. A sea of black and grey, every so often light danced across it and they became a burning white.

That was the last thing I remembered seeing before I fell unconscious.

His serpentine eyes pinned her unconscious body where it laid. He scowled, but stood motionless in the downpour as if he expected her to rise with fists flying. Covered in mud, donned in crimson, and skin cracked like damaged porcelain, she looked every bit as broken as she warned. But Lye knew that her definition of broken varied greatly from his own. He was mortal, she was not. At least to his understanding, he only controlled her through thin mental fibers of his teachings and a precise display of his own power. Beyond that, the assassin knew what laid unconscious in the street was quickly growing beyond his control.

And it could not be stopped. By him at least.

With a grunt, the silver crested killer clutched the open wound in his chest. He processed the poison from the crossbow bolt, but the injury remained. For a reason unknown to him, he struggled to suture it shut with his living marrow and bone. Despite this, he could not leave Scarlet in the streets of this backwater town. He would never hear the end of it. With clenched teeth to brunt the pain and his frustrations, he took a knee and lifted her over his shoulder. A wave of blood seeped from his chest and washed down his body with the waves of rainwater.

Three of the cardinal directions offered nothing but plains and the closest city meant three day's travel by foot. The occupants of the tavern either arrived on foot, or carriage, for no horses waited idly outside. Lye hefted his dead weight to a more comfortable position on his shoulder, and he began his trudge to the only semblance of cover away from others: the forest.

Hours passed with no sign of relief from the dark sky above. The canopy of the woods provided a limited reprieve from the frigid downpour so long as the assassin kept off the main road. As he struggled to carry Scarlet along, his wound constantly bled. So long as the rain kept him wet, the wound would not close. He looked for opportunities to set her down and take a moment, but the flat land didn't afford the luxury of a cave or cliffside. It came to the point, Lye's vision began to grow dark at the edges. His bones would keep him alive no matter how much he bled out, but conscious was a different story entirely.

Through the trunks and boughs, far off the worn path and honestly lost beneath a star or sunless sky, the assassin spotted two downed trees conveniently crossed atop one another. It would do. He hefted the Ar'Tuel off his shoulder and propped her under the two logs where the rain struggled to encroach. Lye shook his head. His mind fogged and each breath resounded in his ears as the steady thrum of his heart beat slower and softer.

He righted himself and set to work with what time he had left. With khukri in hand, the assassin cleaved boughs and branches nearby. Each one set on top of the fallen logs, extending their shelter to accommodate more than one. The darkness grew from the edges, leaving him a fogged window no bigger than a viewing glass by the time he could call his efforts complete. Through ragged, raspy breaths, he weighed his time to find enough dry wood for a kindling but knew his limits.

The assassin gulped back a dry mouth and mustered enough strength to settle himself into the impromptu shelter. The steel of his blade cut the front of his drenched cloak from his chest, then thudded into the black dirt beside him. His fingers, shaking and weak, fumbled with his leather chest plate. Buckle by buckle he finally freed the carapace from his body but before he could remove his tunic, both hands slumped to his side. His head cocked off against his shoulder and pinhole vision settled on the woman beside him.

He let a bemused breath escape his lips as a haze in the chilled air.

"If you're going to do it," his voice manifested low as a whisper. "Then get it over with."

And the two found peace, side by side, in the ambient hiss and roar of the storm.

I opened my eyes to darkness and the fresh scent of loamy earth. My skin tickled and prickled feeling it beneath me. I wriggled my fingers and allowed them to dig into the dirt. It was odd, it both comforted me and sickened me to the point where I felt as though I would heave what little contents were in my stomach across the floor. Taking a deep breath I tried to ground myself. I closed my eyes again but all I could feel was the earth, and a throbbing pain. It's pain... and I was the cause. Of course I was... it was all I did, it was what I was c͉̯͎̟͝rḛ͕͎͓͖́a̝͞t̤̲̘̘̞͞ed̴̪̣͈̩͖ to do.

I groaned as I sat up hand pressing a hand to my head. Damn... I felt hot. Something wasn't entirely right I struggled to see, to sit, to breathe. It was though existing was a struggle. This was not me. I was far stronger than this I am S̻̻̭̰c̤̜͘à̫̙̳̳̣r̘͙̳̣̰͔l͕͉ͅẹ͎̖̲ţ͔̘̥̜, I can defeat this feeling.

I glanced toward Ulroke. His Jacket, tattered and burnt at the sleeve lay by his side leaving his wounded chest exposed. It glistened, even in the darkness. I pursed my lips, he had not healed himself. Normally, he'd be able to suture such a wound shut. It must have been due to the...the... I furrowed my brows, thoughts were so hard to grasp right now.

Why was he here?

Why was I?

Oh...

That's right... he had been poisoned, and his answer to fix that was to get absurdly drunk.

"If I were to k-" My words stopped, as I struggled to piece together a solid sentence, it felt as though each time I tried to form a thought I'd loose it just as quickly. "-To Kill you...I'd have done it in the tavern." A low sigh escaped his lips as he drawled out a command. He wanted warmth. Unlike her, he had no ability to withstand the cold. Unlike her, he was bleeding out.

"Right...wood..."

And it took all my efforts to stand, the world around me span and I had to shuffle out from under the shelter with one hand against my head, and the other, my abdomen. Anything to alleviate the symptoms. It wasn't exactly hard finding dried wood...anything I touched began to dry up and wither. I used it to my advantage and pulled apart lush ferns which crumpled in my fingertips. Drying to brittle yellow and brown stems. There were a few logs beneath an overhanging branch which were relatively dry. I picked them up, and in delirium returned to our little shelter. I dropped the wood and dry kindling before I collapsed to my knees, breathing heavily.

Silence fell between us. I wasn't sure if he was still conscious, or if he was waiting for me to finish my 'task'

wait... what was that task again?

I stared blankly at the logs before me, why on earth did we have those in here? Was it some sort of joke? Was he testing the miasmatic effects of my soul? Wait. No. Fire. We needed fire. I pushed myself up again, fueled only by an iron will of determination. I grabbed his jacket, which hissed, parts of it burning in my grip as I started to fish through his many pockets. Finding what I needed I pulled out fire-starters, two rocks with etchings on them.

I dropped his jacket, not caring about whatever damage happened to it. It was new, to have the effects so strong but I struggled to remain curious as to the why. I clacked the stones together, with each loud snap sparks flew, alighting the small hideaway. Finally, they hit the kindling. Smoke formed, then a small flame. I leaned down, and with a ragged breath blew gently till the flames grew strong and steady.

We were close, he only mere inches from me. I could feel the prickled goosebumps of his skin against my own. The hand I used to steady myself lay in a cold pile of his own ichor. I absently rubbed my fingers together, feeling its velveteen slick against my skin. I kept my gaze to the fire. What was...hi͈̣̝̝̻̜ͅs̰̞̩ ̪͓n̩͖͍̪̝ͅa̰̳͕̗̮̠m̗̤e̫͚̝ a̩͈̱̲̝̙g̻a̩̝̺̙i̭̥̦̳͇͙ͅn̹͉̲̫̲͚̱?̻͉̮̜̜ What was ... what was it? Why couldn't I remember?

Seconds passed before it came to me.

"Lye..." My voice was low, and again I found myself talking without realizing what I was saying, I didn't even recall the words coming out of my mouth. "I do not...want you to die. You are the only constant I have. Everything and everyone else has crumpled beneath and around me." I glanced down at my own cracked skin, blackened lines thick and angry covered most of my sickly looking skin.

Did I always look this way?

I clenched then released my fist, swaying slightly. Still blurry... everything was so blurry and fuzzy. Did I just say something? I couldn't remember.

The embers glowed, spewing black smoke into the sky. The winds of the storm, broken by the surrounding foliage fanned the infant flames to a hearty fire. If his assailant tailed him, this beacon would only help them finish the job. That though lingered in the back of the assassin's mind with a groan from his lips. The shelter and reaching warmth of the blaze finally gave his wound some time to close. Small fibers of calcified bone reached across the meaty gap and locked with one another. A lattice began to form, much slower than his expected normal and through a focused effort of will.

His vision still fringed on darkness, only his second sight illuminating Scarlet's silhouette in the sea of vague shadows. He heard her voice, and turned the corner of his lips into a weak smile.

"Get used to it," he murmured in reply. "Mortals die. Magic can only go so far, but death will always come."

He opened his eyes, but the world still failed to come into view. Despite his blindness, he looked toward the direction he sensed her.

"Not for you," he added. "No, not for you."

His head fell backward against the mossy bark. Lightning crackled across the sky and thundered in his ears. Fiber by fiber, his bones reached to weave his wound.

Not for you, not for you

His words echoed in her mind. I am i͈̳̺͈̻̗̘m͇̭̳̙ͅm̠̻̮̦o̬̝̰̲̬r͕t̟̱a̫̲̞͍̩͕l̩̻. I am Ś̫̮̰͖̙̙c͍̠͢a̠̻̻͞ͅͅr̥͈̠ḷ̦̠e̴̦̘̭t̸̯̯. I am - who?

"Not for me." The words lilted softly from my lips as I pulled my hand away from the pool of blood. I stared at it. It was his. I wasn't sure I'd even bleed red anymore. I wasn't human, I wasn't Ar'Tuel. I was some sort of abomination. I shifted closer to Lye, a slick of wet red hair fell over my shoulder and slapped the front of my dress. I leaned over his form. Scelera eyes gazing at him. Every suture, every scar on his body. It had told a story, it had been a time he had shown weakness, a time he had learned and a time he had grown.

Time.

T̹̹̦̼̖̲͍̀i͜m̲̭̼e͏̫...
̵͓̻̜̗

What was.... what was that? I lost my train of thought, my mouth opened and lips moved, yet I wasn't willing it. It was as though a part of me, a part that was so desperately reaching to claw its way back to the surface was using my fevered weakness to peek through the dark curtain that Scarlet had placed over her heart and the thick bile that drowned her very being. S͉̩̘̼h͔̼̖̟e̳͖̝̞͕ ̛̯̟̟͉w̛̟̠ḁ̹̙̤s̛̱͔̹͓͙̗ ̻̗̦̭g̝̖̦̼o̟͎̱͟n̸̝̙̙̲̹̘e̼̬̭̗̰.̮͟ She was dead. Still, the words came. "Your property. Was that really all it was? After everything?"

I struggled to place memories of us, I could recall times many times we were together but none of them were pleasant. It felt lonely. "How Lonely...you must be..." I whispered as I went to clutch my heart. I misjudged, using the hand I had used to prop myself up and had subsequently fallen into his lap. He made little effort to help me. I rolled onto my back and slowly closed my eyes. The fire was smokey and hot. I felt the heat against my skin but it barely warmed me. I felt an unrelenting and bitter cold from deep within me.

And I realized that frozen tundra within me was my reality. It was me. It was what I had felt, what I had known. Lye wasn't the one constant in my life that bitter empty loneliness was.

Lonely? She knew not the meaning of the word. Not yet at least.

"No," he spoke as though trying to laugh. "No, you were something else once."

The formation and manipulation of bone never became a pleasant experience after all these years, but the current task at hand wracked him. Lye struggled to get his body to respond, even to the commanding and absolute will he possessed. Whether it be the residual toxins or something else entirely, his body screamed in pain as he tried to accomplish such a simple task. The only other time his memory could recall such a struggle was that year beneath the Seventh Sanctum. Celestial essence - Angel's blood.

"I trusted you to stay in the Sanctum," Lye continued in strained words. "Shinsou, Vincent, Jake, Taka, the Ixian witch... Noel... You just couldn't leave well enough alone. Could you?"

Lye's hand reached up to his chest and dabbed at his injury. His vision slowly crawled back to light. Less red than before transferred to the blur that was his palm.

"How many enemies will you bring to my doorstep?" Lye turned to her. "Look what your actions have done."

He couldn't make out the details of her face, the cracks, or the red dress that once belonged to someone far more important to him. He saw red. Red, black, and the pastel tones of flesh, backlit by the orange glow from the fire.

"You were something once," Lye admitted. "Then, you became this. Whatever, this is."

I blinked he said names I didn't quite remember. A few rang familiar, and tugged at memories I simply could not bring forth at the moment. Taka? Noel? S̜̘̟̪͇̼͕h̹i̫̣̩̫͉̳n̯S̱̱̲̪͇̻̟o̟̼͖͖̭̞u?͙̙̼͚̗

"WHo...ArE thosE peoplE?"

My actions. Did they cause his blood. Slowly, memories trickled into the forefront of my mind as I repeated the names to myself. Minutes passed, I wasn't sure how many, did they turn into hours? I didn't know. "Noel was a cuck who deserved his fate." These words, they were mine. They were spoken wth the cold rythmic tone I felt I was accustomed to. So why was that b͚̯̪̥r͉̲̙̤̣e̟̱̮a͍̪̲k̖i̮̗n͎̰g͎͍̻͇̪̤? I continued. Voice strained. Who were the others? Taka...oh he meant Zero. The little empty shell I had destroyed.

I closed my eyes, loosing my train of thought again. "What was I to you?"

What..what was that? DiD I saY thAt?


'Snap, Crack, Snap'

There was the distinct sound of footsteps approaching. Denying me of an answer I wasn't entirely sure I sought. The silver haired man tensed. He heard it too. Then the makeshift shelter was torn away. Despite my ailments I found myself acting on instinct, I pushed myself to Shaky feet, and six snakes erupted form my back. They hovered threateningly behind me as I stood over the silver haired man.

"WHO?"

The word dripped from my mouth, a hissed order through clenched teeth. My entire body was on fire and I struggled to focus on the figure before me. He looked to be a man dressed in royal blues, he was armed with a crossbow aimed directly at my heart. He spoke in a calm, clear voice. "I don't have the poison to waste on you. Move."

PoIsoN

This was the man that hurt him. He was but a man, a cutthroat to be sure, but naught but a man. Before his finger was able to pull the trigger one snake had sunk its teeth into the flesh of his neck. Two others had twisted his hands sickeningly away from the bow, breaking the bones. The man was already on his knees. I took three shaky steps toward him. "WhO SenT YoU."

The man gasped for air, refusing to answer, I leaned over him, digging a heel into the meat of his groin. He screamed. "EISKALT! FUCK! EISKALT!" I pressed harder, his screams ebbing me on. I had no thought, no constraint. I breathed deep and could smell death lingering on the air. My lips twisted into a cruel and cold grin. "I like how you smell..."

"Wh-WHAT?"

His confusion and fear was clear even with the toxins that were seeping into his skin, and the burns in his arm, the internal bleeding. He fell to the floor. All I had to do was finish the job.

"Enough."

His command snapped me out of it. His words rang loud through the night, over the roar of thunder. I stepped back and to the side. Why did he ask me to stop? I was defending him wasn't I? Then it hit me. Bubbling up from inside, I couldn't stop it. I vomited. Black bile and ichor spilled from my lips as I stumbled backward. With that bile came a sudden wave of pain, emotion. Why? WHY? W̙̹̩͍̼̤͉H̤̲̳͇̭̭̤Y̱̮̟͚̗̩

Shit.

ShIt.

The snakes flickered out of existence, and I quickly realized I had pushed myself too much. But how was that too much? It was a small feat that re-

that..

wait...

Wh A T...

What am I?

My wo rl d w. a s fading...I had to say something..."Lye.... My voice cracked as I caught this wrist, trying to tug myself up off the ground. My eyes caught his, and I swore I saw flickers of amber reflected in his stony emerald gaze. The way his breath hitched in his throat. I know he saw it too. Flecks of something which should have been stomped out of me a long time ago, things that had been ripped from me, beaten from me time and time again by the very man I was trying to make amends to. "Lye..." His lips were always turned down into that scowl. What was my promise? Did I not...tell him I'd make him s̖̻̻̻m͕͉̻̦̞i̹le̟͔̪͍ͅ?

I'm SoRry..." My words, did they reach him? Or were they drowned out by the harsh winds and rain?

His Assailant was as good as dead. I had done my task.

AftEr AlL...

I aM jUst a a̖͙ͤͫͧ́͛ͥͩ ͓͍̳̟̠͊ͯ̂͋̓͛͐D͓̲ͣͪe͓͈͇̫̾́̂̓ͅM̦͕̰̙̯̺̗͊̑o̯̥̯̾ͨ̂̒ͧ̔͑ͅn I̮̣͉̋̉͂̄ͪc͖̠͕̲̩̜̊͊̒͊̎ͫ͋ ̼͓͉͖̣̩̝͑̄Tͯ̿̓ͫ͆̉ỏ̘̥͉͗ͫͬ̽öl̜̖̓.͉̺̗̼̣͖ͧͦ͑ͪ͂


And then, the darkness came and took me once more.

The boneknit lattice completed just enough to make do before the cover was ripped from above. Rain poured down and the fire popped and hissed. Lye's vision began to sharpen enough to make out Scarlet jump into action. Black vines spouted from her back and plunged into the unknown attacker. Lye recognized his aura through his second sight. The bolt in his chest belonged to this man. Muffled cracks and pops preceded a violent scream of pain. Scarlet put the man on his knees, heel buried in what used to be genitalia. The man yowled one word before Lye spring into action.

"EISKALT!"

"Enough!" Lye roared. The ivory sutures strained against the bellows from his chest.

He forced himself to stand as Scarlet turned to him. The inky appendages flickered and faded into dust. Hand clutched to his chest, the other reached out to her. And then she staggered. The assassin cursed the recent chain of events, but as Scarlet began to buckle under her own weight, he managed to catch her by the wrist. It was a brief moment. As she dangled, pressed against his legs, he saw a ring of amber in her eyes. Between the pitch black and blood red, golden hues crawled through for a fraction of a second as she slipped two words through her lips.

I'm sorry.

What for? Passing out? Taka? Shinsou? Exposing him and his location to the world and enemies? What for?

The black sclera devoured the slivers of gold near as quickly as they appeared and Scarlet's body wracked as though struck with lightning. Parts of her body untouched by the corrupted cracks shattered like glass. New paths and webs of darkness etched across fair skin to the point, it singed his hand. He let her out of his grasp to collapse to the damp earth. Half of his glove fell from his blistered hand and joined her on the ground.

"Fuck," he swore as he clutched his hand.

Two motionless bodies now lay in the midst of the Condordian Forest. One banged up assassin, still lightheaded from blood loss, stood over the two of them.

"Fuck," he repeated, then drew a long, deep breath.

Lye hobbled over to the downed killer, his arms twisted in ways they were not meant to bend. Yet, despite the black wounds from Scarlet's dark magicks, the assailant's chest still rose and fell. Beside him, the shattered crossbow and bolt laid. For curiousity's sake, the assassin plucked the bolt from the ground and stashed it away on his person. As for the two bodies, Lye did recall a farm with a particularly putrid ale, a dead swine, and far more firewood than necessary. In the barn, were several wagons.

What bad luck for that poor soul.

------

The journey took them only as far as Underwood. Neither Scarlet nor the assailant woke during the nightlong trip. The storm subsided mid way, and with his wound shut, Lye felt his strength begin to return. Unfortunately, the farmer and his wife paid the price for their expedited journey. The two children however... Well, only time would tell if they joined their parents in the afterlife. He thought of them on the trip. Why he spared two lives he would otherwise have taken. Perhaps it was the wounds? Perhaps he was worried his assailant would wake? Perhaps he was worried Scarlet would be eaten by a Gorian'Fel? All in all, he spared them.

Once at Underwood, Lye managed to persuade a local mage to conjure up a portal to Archen in exchange for their wagon and the bales of wheat within. It was an unfair trade, but the steal he gave the mage was indeed stolen afterall. There, an envoy from the Sanctum granted them passage north. All the while, Scarlet slumbered and their captive unfortunately slipped into eternal slumber. Lye stripped the man of his belongings and ditched the corpse in the Forgotten Forest for the Dark Crawlers to enjoy.

"Sir, what happened to you?" Caellus asked as he aided the assassin from the wagon.

"It's a long story I rather not tell," replied the assassin. He noticed Caellus pause as he looked at the second passenger in the back of the wagon.

"Go on," Lye urged. "Her too."

"Is that--?"

"Yes, it is. Bring her to my chambers and have that... alchemist take a look at her," Lye ordered with a groan.

Scarlet lay on the bed, her loosely clothed form drenched in sweat. Her sclera eyes struggled to focus on the carved onyx ceiling, her chest rose and fell in quick succession. She had a fever, and has had one for the last few days. At first, it was a nuisance, then, it was followed by constant waves of nausea. Now, the red headed assassin struggled to stand without falling. Strands of crimson hair clung to her pale and cracked face, her lips were dry and cracked.

Richard, one of her subordinates stood at Lichensith Ulroke’s alchemic desk, breezing over some notes he had taken during his time questioning her. A beaker atop a bunsen burner bubbled away, and the thick smell of mint mixed with a chemical hung heavy in the room. He had her drink some form of truth serum, it left a bitter taste on her lips, but it ensured she told the truth to him.

Richard tore his brown eyes away from his work when Lye entered the room. “Sir.” He dipped his head as a sign of respect to the man.

“Well? What’s wrong with her?” Lye asked as he stalked up to Richard, thin lips pressed into a hard line. His one good eye bore down on Richards pristine form. “She’s useless like this.”

“Mmm…” Richard mused, shifting his gaze to the barely conscious woman on the bed. “Master Ulroke,” Richard began, speaking with his usual inflection. “Tell me, have you noticed anything about her that has changed recently?” Lye rose a skeptical brow. Richard continued. “I do not mean her transformation, I mean her body.”

Lye’s gaze shifted to Scarlets form then back to Richard. “What of it.”

Richard frowned, seeing no way to tip-toe around the matter. He cleared his throat and lowered his tone so that she would not hear. “She’s pregnant. Her nausea is morning sickness, common misconception is that it only happens during the morning. It -” Lye narrowed his gaze, Richard skipped that and continued.” I’d stake my life on the reason she has her fever. Her corrupted soul struggles to heal her, and with it now working in overdrive for herself and for a child - well, something like that would put a strain even on a demigod.” Richard sighed as he handed Lye the notes. “I would avoid telling her. She would probably try to rip it out of herself - which would just exert her soul further as it tries to repair the damage. I’m not certain on that but it is something to consider. I think, the soul of the child may help heal her. These are just theories. It may be why she’s showing some semblance of emotion.”

Richard didn’t give pause, he was concerned with how the man would react. “It looks to be about 3 months. I questioned her whilst she was under the influence of a truth serum I whipped up. It is still in effect now, so if you wish to further question her, do so. The father has been narrowed down to two people.” There was a slight pause as he drew in a deep breath. “Either yourself, or a man named Shinsou Van Osiris, She barely seems to recall him.”

Richard shook his head and folded his arms to stop his hands from shaking. Speaking with Lye always made him extremely nervous, and the assassin was known to shoot the messenger out of anger. “My advice...let her rest a few days. Do not let her use her abilities right now. I’m not sure how she will cope. She needs rest, and she needs to be looked after. Should I have Advencia come and change her cloth?”

“Leave us.” Lye growled.

“But-”

“Do not test my patience.”

Richard didn’t give Lye any further words, he offered him another nod of the head and hastily made his way toward the exit. He shut the door and exhaled, pulling a cloth from his front pocket and lightly dabbing the sweat from his forehead. “Those two will be the death of me.” He jumped when he noticed the stoic figure of the masked man. Scarlet’s knight. Richard knew of the things she had put him through, and a part of him felt bad for the poor sod, another part, felt that he got what he deserved for willingly placing himself in such a position.

------------------------------------------

That fucking bastard. Whatever he gave me...it was bitter, and I barely had control over myself before. Now…. Now?

Now….

"Lye?"

I could hear him, and his footsteps as he approached. I turned to him, blurry eyed. I barely remembered the conversation I had with Richard, my voice felt hoarse, as though I had been talking a long time.

Ev E R Y THi N G was So F U . Z . Zy....


"Lye..." his name croaked out of my mouth a second time as my hand swatted at him in an affectionate drug induced stupor. The way he was looking at me...why? Why was he looking at me like that?

What had I done now?

Lye stood at the bedside. Her hand reached out just shy of his attire. The torch's light on the wall cast a warm glow on the four horseman blade held against the small of his back. With his half blind gaze, he silently stared. The woman in the bed, cracked, broken, and swallowed in darkness seemed much more human in this moment. He knew her to be immortal, but what about the child? Was it his? Was it his enemy's? Would he be doing her a favor by killing it?

He pondered these questions and many more. As his thoughts deepened and whipped into a frenzy, the grip on his dagger tightened.

"Lye..?" Scarlet called out once more. She used his name yet again.

"How..." The sentence hung on his tongue. Did he really care about her well being? Did he really care about a child's; even his own?

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

Scarlet looked at him while still in a daze, but her brows further scrunched in confusion. She paused, closed her eyes, and rested her arm against her forehead.

"Tired," she muttered. "Feels like my stomach is in knots..."

'That's because you're with child,' he thought to say. His teeth clenched and again he felt the urge to plunge his blade into her abdomen. Where was Aurelianus when you needed him? Lye held himself back. Somewhere in the miasma of his twisted sense of reality, a small emotion stayed his otherwise vicious tenancies. It resounded like a voice in his head.

Daddy.

It was faint, distant. That shrill, innocent voice. A soft tug at the fabric of his trousers and two bright eyes staring up. A little smile, some teeth recently missing.

"Lye..?" That voice again. While it was hers, it overlapped another. His throat dried and he suddenly forgot how to breath.

"Yes?" he answered after a pause to catch his breath.

"What am I to you?" Scarlet asked. The cold, sharp words of her usual tone seemed absent. It sounded soft, genuine, if not weak and confused.

'You're nothing to me,' he thought to say, but the tightness in his chest held the words behind his lips. A mother? The mother of my child? A victim. A weapon and tool for the liberation of Salvar? A demon?

"You should get some rest," he stated. His words ended with the punctuation of blade against scabbard. Then, he reached over her and pulled dampened, charred sheets up to her neck. "I'll have fresh linens brought up."

Scarlet reached up while he was over her and drew a gentle hand across his cheek. It froze him for a brief moment.

"Stay?" she asked.

The assassin wrenched away and made for the door.

"Get your rest," he stated in his familiarly firm tone. The grate of iron groaned open and Lye removed himself from the room. The door shut, and the clang of metal on stone rang out.

Outside their quarters, Lye turned his eyes to the former Ixian that waited calmly beside the wall.

"The fuck are you doing here, puppet?" spat the assassin through a scowl.

“I could ask you the same thing Ulroke-dono,” The man replied. He carefully moved to the middle of the hallway a thumb pressed firmly against the tsuba of the katana on his hip. It wasn’t his first one, that one remained in his room. This was an iron one that the Ronin had found, nearly rusted through before he had begun the hard work of restoring it, seeing the kinship of the blade even now. It was nowhere near as elegant at Rengoku, but it certainly got the job done. He pressed, “A puppet must stay close to their master. That is the puppet’s role, and the basis of their relationship. So when the man that claims to be my charge’s master brings said charge half dead back, the puppet begins to wonder if it is time to defend his master from the idiocy of those that think they know best.”

“Try it, Ixian. I’ll have you skinned and turned into a corset for her to wear,” Lye growled.

“I’m no Ixian, she made sure of that...the man you’re looking for died of a bleeding heart,” Zero replied firmly. He then gestured to Uleroke, “You’re still hurt, your first blade would hardly be out of its sheath before I had blade to your throat. If the pain is bearable, you might have begun drawing the second. We can continue this pissing match, but I need to know what happened so I can act accordingly. So, I let you live, despite better judgement that you are leading her to her death. What happened?”

“Ask her yourself,” the words left through a scowl.

Eyes narrowed behind the mask before he spoke, “Whose child is it?” He paused looking at Lye’s reaction, “Don’t be upset, the walls here are thin, and I make it my job to know things about my charge.”

The assassin didn’t reply. Foolishly, he bared his back to Zero and began walking away. A sigh left Zero’s lips before the sound of the katana breaking the seal on his sheath could be heard, he paused his draw, waiting for Uleroke to respond to the thinly veiled threat. He knew the man’s pride would only allow such insolence in the most dire of circumstance. Further, Zero was deadlier when he was striking from a draw, and was certain the Crimson Assassin knew it too.

“Do it.” Lye stopped in place and waited. His back remained to Zero. Zero widened his stance, preparing himself to strike before the blade clicked back in, and the sound of the door opening was heard.

“One day, I will repay you for the blow to the back you gave me, not today,” He said firmly stepping into the sanctum beyond.

He didn't answer me. I wanted my a̱̪n͇̮s͕͖̖̙͉w͚ ̦̳͈͓e̱ṛ͎̘.

Even so, as he leaned over and pushed me tighter into the covers I found it so very hard to move. The world around me swam in a delirium of floating colours. Of whites, and blues, blacks and the unmistakable greens of his sallow, tired eyes. I reached out to that swirl of colour and the pads of my fingertips hit his cheek. Warmth leaked into the cold of my fingers, and it sprang up against his skin like wildfire. He drew away.

My touch. Just my touch h͚̯̬̖�*̳̲uÌ®rÌžÍ‡Ì ¤ÍšÌÌ–t̩�*s̖̬ people.

My hand fell away as he left. My eyes were unable to focus but I could hear the steady thump of his boots against the chiseled onyx floor, the grind of the steel door as it opened then shut and the echo of the force behind it.

I was....wa R M? WhE Re WaS i ag͖͍͖A�*̩IN�*͙̻� �̤̙?

I shut my eyes. I liked this warmth. Even if I could feel it burning away, charring at my touch. Had I be Co Me so po Werful? So C̘̫�*̟͉̰o̥̼̘ͅÍ� �̪̞r̞̞̮̙͓͚̱ RÌ–u̥�*̦̳̮͔p͇̞̪t ̜̗̩͚̟eÍ•Ì¤ÌŸÍ‰Ì¼ÍˆÌ –d ̯̹͇ͅ?͎̞̰ This was what someone wanted. Good.... G O oood..

I pushed myself off the bed, a shaking hand held a balled up section of blanket that trailed behind me as I took slow, steady steps toward what looked like the door. Darkness...it - it encroached on the field of my vision. There was no reason to me being up and around, no drive to walk and yet, as though pressing on and being goaded by an unknown force I moved. Soundlessly across a room I barely recognized.

The door opened and a figure stepped through, billowed waves of white followed. "Scarlet?" Gentle hands gripped my shoulders, then pulled away as flesh hissed and burned. "What happened?"

Still under the effects of Richards truth serum, I spoke with a hazy tone. "Everything...is shattering. I cannot...who are you?" I asked as I tried to focus my gaze on him.

"Zero. I'ts Zero. What is shattering?"

Ah...I faintly recalled that name, I took a shaky step forward struggling to support my own weight. "I am. I am No T Sc Ar let. I am...tool. I think... it's hard to think...tavern. Shinsou was there with another...ah..." I lifted a hand to gently graze the hole in my skin, where nothing but a blackness swirled beneath. "I shattered. I have a fever. Was told to...."

Words faded into nothing; as did my mind. Everything I was saying and doing in t Hat mom ent vanished, and ć̈̉̇͗eÌ€Ì€Ì‰ÌˆÍ¦Ì ‰Ì¬Ì¦Ì°Ì™as̪̫̳̫̞̽ͯ ͚̗e̮̻͓͍̘̝̔dÌŽÍŒ� �’̼͔̻̙̓ Ì“Í¥Í‹Ì‡Í¥Í¯Í®Í™Ì®Ì¦Ì¥Ì ²ÌŸṫ̬̼̅̋ͪ̃̑ͣÌ� �Ì—ÌŸÍ“o̔͋ͨͩͧÍ*̪̎� �ºÍ‡Ì³Ì¦ ̟̞̱̲ͮ̓e̋͗ͦͫ̚Ì� �͉̦͚̜͓̈́xÌƒÌ€Ì„Ì†Ì ¼Ì¼Ì©ÌºÍ…̦i͙̦̝̪͌ͤ� �œÌªÍšš͖̮̞̣̗̿t̪Í� ��Ì*͍̩.̰ͫͬ͗̊̓̊̚Ì� �Ì¥


Small footsteps shuffled forward. The one man who had any iota of concern or care for her left behind, broken and battered as he was momentarily forgotten. Each barefoot step lead closer to the door then out.

Another came into blurred view.

Oh...

It was UlR OkE.

"̰͓͍͕͖͕̗L�*͉� ��̮̫y̥�*͕̰͕͕y̪̝ ̗͓e� �̲e̬͚̝̹͔̝̘.̗̞ ̺.͍̣̪̪̖̟ͅ"̰̰ ̖ The name fell from my lips long, drawled out and crackled. I stumbled forward, crashing into his chest. Gripping the leather of his jacket tightly I forced him down to the ground as I lost the ability to stand myself. The material hissed in my hands and melted away, pieces of ash were caught in the breeze and carried away. We were both on the floor now, him an unwitting prisoner of my grip, his upper half in my lap. There it was again, that tingling sensation of warmth.

I n E eD eD it.

My fingers absently fell through silver trestles as I stared blankly at a swirling world before me. It was like patting a dog, or a confused puppy. But such creatures w͔͎o̘̹ͅuÍšl̝̪̱d̺Í� ��͕͍̰̬ͅ ͎̻͖d͍͔͓̩͓̪iÌ—eÌ ¤ÌºÌ™ in my grasp.

"You ...were going to...kill me, weren't you?"

He W A ss... go ing to try anD end <me.... how silly... he s aid it himself. I am iMmortal. He Is N oT.

My grip tightened, fingers digging into the holes they made in his attire. I clutched him tightly. The darkness, it was encroaching further and further on my vision. Perhaps...this was what my existence was now. "You're mine." The words came breathlessly from my lips. They weren't possessive, nor was it a threat. They were uttered as though I were a small child, who was about to have their beloved pet taken and beheaded in front of them.

"No one WilL take You from mE...."

And with that, the last of my vision faded, a low deep breath expelled and my body swayed side to side. There was nothing. No conscious thought. And yet, tender hands began to gently glide through silver hair once more, every so often a thumb gently grazing over a creased forehead. Beads of sweat dripped from a swaying fevered broken thing onto it's master below.

"I'l̹̹̝͓͉̥̻lÍ“Ì˜Í – k̮͖̰̝i̯̬̙�*̪̜ï� �½*ll̯̞͚̺͓̳ �*̦th͖̩̱͙̯̜̞eÍšÌ ŸÌ—̟̳m̺͕̞ͅ ͍̟͉̺f̺̻̦̲͖̙i̦� �™Í‰ï¿½*̰͔͕r̫͇̣ͅs ͔͇ t"̳͇͖

To see her standing was a feat in its own. When she collapsed against him, he fell with her to lessen the blow. Part of him wanted to step aside so she could meet intimately with the cold stone floor, but a stronger sense urged him otherwise. The impromptu decision lead to a less than graceful decent. In it, he ended up with his body mostly in her lap, and his back arched slightly to avoid crushing her leg. Yet, without missing a beat, Scarlet began to run her fingers through his hair. The touch of her skin against his scalp felt like raking razors despite the intended affection behind it.

"You ...were going to...kill me, weren't you?" She murmured, her voice akin to a record whose needle would not settle.

It unnerved him. He was, but the painful display of affection had him questioning what exactly went through her head. Dead was naught but a minor inconvenience to her. To her, a stopped heart or severed head was the closest to torture she could get compared to a mortal. What fear could be derived from a condition with no permanence? Her grip tightened on his arm and the fingers slid past his leather and began to plunge beneath the skin like a hot iron. With clenched teeth, he bore the pain and tried to shift himself to a position capable of righting them both.

"No one WilL take You from mE...." Scarlet continued to mumble with demonic undertones.

Her grip loosened and the assassin managed to get his arms beneath her. Like soft, quiet drums, blood pattered to the floor from his new injury. Tendrils of ivory quickly tried to mend the finger holes but they shriveled and turned to ash faster than they could form. Lye carried the woman to the bed and laid her gently down into it. Beads of sweat rolled off her forehead and matted down locks of crimson.

She mumbled something else, too unintelligible for Lye to make out. It sounded like a threat. To whom, he was not sure. The assassin took a step back to inspect his own wounds and to let Scarlet slip into obscurity. The flesh seemed rotted, dead. His bones still reached out to seal the injury, but twisted and warped as they tried to weave into one another. His lip flared. He would need to cut the dead meat from the living. The assassin's arm fell to his side. Drip by drip of blackened crimson fell to the floor.

"I don't know," he finally answered. Tool? Mother? Noble? Slave? Lover?

"I don't know," he repeated.

A knock resounded on the door.

"Master, I've brought the sheets," spoke the voice of a familiar succubus. The first word seemed spoken through layers of venom.

"The door is open," Lye replied. Advencia walked through and staggered to a standstill at the sight of Scarlet. "Be careful."

Lye held up his dripping forearm as a trickle of red stemmed from his silver hairline and down his cheek. Advencia looked between the two with a raised eyebrow and a bit of shock.

"I'll leave you to it. I have a raven to send." Lye walked past Advencia and left to send a message to his favorite Briarheart bookworm.

A few days had passed in fevered delirium for the woman. She was kept mostly in isolation, away from others and away from things her mere presence managed to burn away. No longer did she lay amongst the covers of a bed, instead she rested in the corner of their personal qaurters which had been cleared of any furnishings. Food had been given to her but She barely touched it. The Crimson Hand quickly began to go through what reserves they had of their sheets, down blankets and furs. Every so often a soft word would escape her lips as her eyes refocused, but mostly... she just stared into space leaning against the corner of the wall.

How long had it been since I shifted to the corner? I wasn't sure. I remember... the protests of a tiny woman with very proportionate breasts to her size. I remember a stoic silver haired man who simply watched wordlessly as I wandered to my cool and safe corner.

I don't... remember much else, it felt that if I closed my eyes great swaths of time would pass. Everything was always so blurry and hazy. My thoughts...my vision... my body was heavy and felt like lead. There were times where I felt hungry, so hungry... but whenever I tried to eat I'd dry retch. I managed stale bread, and water.

More time passed...

There were glimpses of the man. of Ulroke, every so often he'd come into the room and just....silently watch me from the bed. Every so often he approached me, and asked me questions I did not remember.

It had been.... a long time since anyone has come...

...

I was struggling to... to...


Thoughts... they can't-

A loud grating broke what little concentration I had. I gingerly lifted my head to see him stalking toward me with newfound vigor. "Lyroke?" I asked as I attempted to push myself off the floor to a standing position. The words left my lips as they became thought, I hadn't the chance to filter them. "I missed you. I like when you are...." The words trailed off.

What was....I saying?

Kind & Loving...

Those were the words Madison emphasized in her response. To undo the weeping death that plagued Scarlet, all she needed was for someone to care. For someone to love her. The information seemed preposterous to the trained killer. Food, water, and shelter sustained nearly all life on the planet, but to prevent this one breed of creature from becoming a walking blight, it needed love. Intangible, indescribable, and irrational.

Lye's frame filled the door to their quarters. Scarlet struggled to right herself among the ashes and ribbons of fabric surrounding her on the stone slab. She called out to him, whimpering for his company. The iron door scraped across the floor before clanging shut and Lye approached the bedside, silent. He grabbed the last set of linens the Crimson Hand could offer from the floor and wrapped them around her without a word. Immediately, the white cotton began to grey. Lye sat down on the stone and managed himself behind her with his back resting against the wall. Then, gently, he pulled her against his chest and wrapped his arms around her.

"I have an answer for you," his words were soft and low. "You're my companion, and I'm sorry. I should have noticed sooner."

He lifted a hand, and gently ran it through her hair. Though as he spoke, his eyes remained clouded, lifeless. His lips slightly creased into a smile, but the warmth was not there. His touch was slow and affectionate, but body remained tense and rigid.

The rouse was one he had used numerous times. He lured children or young women to unsightly fates and convinced figures of power to trust him. Scarlet was different. The power she was capable of, the child inside her, and the violent history between the two of them. Affection seemed out of place. Yet, he continued to remind himself that several others reversed her corruption. Several others were able to love such a thing. One of which may be the father of the infant she carried.

If they could accomplish such a task, so could he.

"You feel cold," Lye remarked. He pressed his hand to her damp forehead. He could feel a slight chill before the nerve endings in his skin withered and died.

He winced, but pulled her closer.

"Can I get you anything?"

Wordlessly I was pulled into his strong grasp, eased into his chest he pressed my back against his torso. The action confused me, and I awaited the inevitable pain that was to come.

No...

Nothing of the sort came. Instead he gave her an answer to a question she almost forgot she asked. Companion... the words sounded odd coming from the man, whispered and low. I wasn't sure how much weight they carried. If any. I... was his comPaNion? ThaT coulDn'T be RiGht... I waS nOthing to him.

N̖̻̟̣̓̂̈ͨ̇oÌŽÌ� �̑̾T̞͓̻̊̿ͨ̎͂ͅ ̳h̳̫͋̏͒͂i̔̇ͧÌ� ��̘̯n̮̞ͪͧ͆̓͐ͬͅ� �³G͙̖̯ͦ͂ͨ̒̂Ì*Ì¯Ì ®.̰͇̗͓͕̜
ͯͧ͂̒ͪ̐ͮÌ*̫̤̪̣


I shifted to move but stilled as I felt it. Soft, affectionate and tender strokes as fingers curled into my hair, trailing downward. "What are you-" I stopped. SoMeThinG waSn't RiGht. His body felt rigid against mine and his breath was low and unsettling.

LiAr... LiAr... LiA r

L̯̰͓̘̖͖͖ỉ̆͂� �šÌ²Í‰ā̜̩̻̣͚̿͛rÌ ÌÌ³.....

LIAR LiAr L̂̽͋ͩ͟͝͏͎̗̙̳� �£Ì¼Í“͕͍̜I̊̐̿͑̚Ì� ��̴̵͋͑͊ͨ͗ͨ̐̚͞� �—Ì*Ì*̖͍A̽̀̔ͫ̎̚Í� �͑̐ͬ̈́ͤͬͯ̎̽ͤ̏Í� �̸̥͚̳͔̕͞R̉͗ͤͪ ̈́̎̏̆̿̍ͨ̊̍͑Í*Ì¢ ͈̲̗͈̲̱̙̳́̀ͅ
LiAR


His words and affections... Such lies.... he was cold, so cold. "As cold as your fake affections." I whispered. As he commented on my well-being, a warm hand pressed against my forehead before he winced inwardly and pulled away his hand. ThAt's RighT. My ToUCh bUrns.

He asked me what I wanted. What he could get me. I pressed myself further into his back. Somehow... my thoughts were becoming a little clearer. "YoU're a liar." Even as I said those words I gently grabbed his arms and cohersed them to wrap around my torso. He complied, oddly enough, and squeezed me tightly.

His affections were a lie. They were just actions without emotion, but - should that really matter to a monstEr likE mE? I turned, and pressed my head into the crook of his neck, wishing that the action would not burn his skin. It was a lie, but the warmth of another was welcomed.

"No." I replied. "Just tell me, why are you committing such a farce?" I gripped his arms tighter, ensuring he wouldn't pull away. "What do you have to gain? Are you trying to- to..."


Dammit... I lost my words again.

I sighed as I shut my eyes. "I want this fuzziness in my head to go away. I want to be able to think again. How am I supposed to protect you like this?"

Liar...

Had he forgotten how to be convincing? Did he dislike this that much? Did she know him that well?

Fake...

Was anything about his actions genuine? Did he ever care for her well being, or anyone's? Was any of this what he really wanted?

"What do I have to gain?" the words repeated from his lips.

Scarlet's touch pulled his arms tighter around her into a firm embrace. The leather of his sleeves began to shrivel and dry. The sheets maintained integrity, but the patches that draped over her bare skin looked as though they were forgotten by time. She pressed her head against the nape of his neck, red hair against draping white locks. Were it not for her hair, the woman's passive blight might have started to work it's way toward one of the assassin's favorite arteries to sever.

"Nothing," he stated with complete honesty. "I have nothing to gain."

His hand encroached on her neck. The grip started gentle, pressure gradually increasing. He felt his blood rush by the familiarity and memories of so many fading lights strangled into darkness. His hand opened, slid down, traced across her collar bone, and settled in the valley of her bosoms. The leather of his glove withered and began to chip away.

"Do you remember what I said to you?" his voice remained calm despite the inevitably that her blight would soon eat away at his skin. "I would take everything, but in exchange, you would never need food, shelter, or safety."

Then was a different woman. Did any of that still exist? He saw it, if not fleeting, those golden irises. That initial fire and brilliance the he needed to grasp and hold. In his arms now, was darkness. Death and darkness. How could anyone love such a thing. But the warmth and brilliance that once burned? That fire could be fanned, fed, and coveted. What embers, if any, remained?

"I wanted to own you. Unflinching loyalty. A strong, vivacious force to stand by my side," he spoke as his eyes traced the inky black that etched across her skin. "When I said everything, I did not mean to leave you like this: a hollow, broken vessel. True, your ability to kill is beautiful, but..."

But what? Isn't this the weapon he wanted? Did he want something more? Did he need more? Was it something that needed to be given, not taken?

"I need you back," he stated, not entirely sure why the words felt heavier to speak. He needed nothing. No ties to this world so no man could exploit them. "How can you protect me like this?"

He needed no protection. He knew that his hands would either grant him victory or death. Could it be that he was scared? Death visited him twice before. What reason could he have to be afraid?

"I don't want to kill you," he spoke gently. Such odd words, but from his lips and atop the pile of corpse in which he built himself, they carried a weight as strong as a lover's confession. Were she unable to recover from this -- were she to become a force of decay, he would have to eradicate her. He knew this, but he did not want that outcome. Those golden eyes, her moments of genuine conviction after fiery resistance, he missed that.

But why?

I didn't flinch when I felt the familiarity of his gloved hand around my neck. I closed my eyes and expected the burning sensation of being denied oxygen...

Nothing came.

Instead warmth tickled my cold body as his gloved hand danced across my shattered skin, resting on the tri-star mark he placed on me when we first met. He seemed...pensive? His body wasn't so rigid, nor were his movements reminiscent of practiced falsities. He asked if I remembered what he said... of course I did, he said he would take everything away - and he truly had. What else was left? I could barely hold onto a thought, I had no possessions to call my own, hell - he even had a vial that contained whatever pure humanity I may have had left.

I shut my eyes as I listened to him talk, his low velveteen voice rolling with wisps of uncertainty. He SpKE the truth, I was n̗̝̞̯̞ͬỏ̻̮�*̖͔̗t̫̳̝̞̤͆̔̽̄͋̓h̫̪͕͊�*̥̤͎i̘͙̣ͩ̂̿̌̔ͬ�* ̬̯n̆́̍̊͛̚g͔̼̺̒. My sole existence - and purpose was to kill, to leech life from everything I touch, and to protect him.


"I need you back. How can you protect me like this?"


Ba-dum

My heart suddenly felt heavy, as it beat hard against my chest. What the hell was that!?

Ba-dum

It hurt...my grip on him loosened. I leaned forward, hair spilling over bare shoulders as I inhaled sharply, shaking hands clutching at my chest. Fuck...Fuck....why did this hurt.

"I don't want to kill you...."


"-S-SHut up." I hissed through clenched teeth, these actions weren't exactly kind, nor were his words. Yet my entire body felt like it had just been set alight. "S-Shut up. ShUt Up SHUT UP!" I repeated, tears forming in scelera eyes. "QUIET!" He had long since fallen silent.


Why the hell was he saying these things now? Why - after a year was he finally showing some semblance of caring? Didn't he know I͍̞̺̱͎ͦ̂̇͛̉̅ͨ ͌͐w̜̫͂̄ȁ͙̮̗̲̆̓̂͑ŝͥ̒̽ͦͩ͗�*̪ ͍͖̳̳̙�*̳n̗̖̦̓͐͒̓̈̚�*o͖̳̤̦͉̓ͣ̆̍̿ͯt̹̥̻͖̂ḥ̖̼̙̄i͚̝͉̿n ̖̥̥̅̔̆̒͋gͧ̈́ͯͦ͋̃ͯ? Didn't he know that he H̺̞ͅE̱ͫͯ̌̎ ̜͚̳͈͋͊̚�*͕̗h̳͍ͦ͑̔̂ͤ͗ͤa͍͚̜̲͉͐̓̈͗̾̍̃A̯͗͛͐̀ͪ̽d͉ͧͅ ̣ͅ�* ͖͕̘̗̬͚͑͒ͮͮ͌̔c̅̅̈ͧr̽́͋̔e̘̹̮͎ͩ̆̃a͚̜̬̘͖̔̋ͦt̋ͩ�*�*̜̝e̋ ̖̥̹ͥ̌ͬ͌͊d̬̘͎̱̒͌̂ ͍̖̰̪͒ͯ́͑̇̓̆M̰̫̋̀̅ͅȄ̯͕̫͙̞͎̌ͬͩ͋?̫̩̤̝ͪͬ̑ͧ he WANTED this! He w͖͕̟̮̹͈̯Ḁ͖N̦T̯̼̹͎E�*̞�*͙D̘̩̹ͅ ̤͎̻͇T͇̦ͅͅH̜̪̣̖̯̩̗I͈̼̞͇̦̮S�*̦͉̺̜̗ I didn't WANT to go back! I don't! I̡ͩ ̇̍ͣ́D̷͗͋̍̅̃̓̂Oͫ͝N̾͛̄̀̅̌͌T̶̿̆ͤͫ!̽͘ If I had emotions again! I'd have nothing! I'd act on impulse! I'd feel all those horrid things! Pain, hurt. Bͥ̈́̽ͣͬe̵͒̊t͌̈͒̏̿̾ͩ͢r̸̈́̆ͬ͒̐̚a̋́y̡ͤãͮ�*͂ͨ̉ļ͌ h̙̣̩̤̟a͞t͡�*̣͓̖̬̹̙r̻͎̜e͙̮̰̱̼̦͚d. Why did he want that? WHy did he want that weak Existence again? Ị͙̮̀t̕ ͇̤͉̳d͔͇͖̮̫̲i̷̹̱͙̬̩͓d͕͉̪͇̻̞̮n͏'҉t̴̹̘͙̘̮̪ �*̩̫̲̻m̲͔�*̘ͅa̝͈͎̻̥k̦̖̖̗̪̱͜e̻̯̤̱̖͓͞ ̨s̱̬̩͙͙̟e̹n͚͢s͇͔͓e̱͙͙͎̦͝�*!̯̥̳ He didn't want to kill me? HA! He had killed me! o͕�*͉̫v̶̝͕͍͈̮e̢̙̬̜̰̬͓�*r̟͙ ̵̝͎̤͈̼͍̱a�*̻̼̺͔n͏̟̙͔̪̣d̻̗̪͞ ̷�*̣ơ͍̣̫̟v̧͕̼̘͕̳̻͉e͟ṟ̛͎͉̘ ̴͇̩a�*̝̩�*nd̳̝̜̫ͅ ͓̖͢ͅo̘̦̦͉͙̤͚v̡͉͓̗e͇̮̘r̶̻ �*̗̳̣̩�*a�*̦ṇ͡ͅd͙ͅ ̩͔͕͓ AND OVER AGAIN


sweat dripped from my head, and the room around me swayed with such veracity I felt as though I would vomit. The static in my head grew louder.


Please just let me be. ̰̞̟͟P̛̼͙͚͇̘̘̼l̜̙͎͔̻͉̼e̩̯̞̙̹̻a�*s̮͉̪̪͘e͈̥͈̩̤ ̷̣̮̰j̲̰͚̙u͙s͈̀ṭ̦͎ ̳̦̱l̴͖e̸͇͍t̷̜̯̤͉̖�* m̺̥̜͢�*̰e͔̦̺̱ ͖̪͍͓̝͔̮͡b�*̗̳ͅe̹.̺̟̙ ̢͈̰̯̹ͅ�* ͇̮͖̗͙̜ ̙̝͍̥̣P͙̙͍͖̬l̡̟̬̤ͅe͟a�*͍͎̹s�*̺̺̞̳͙e̺͚͕͍ ̜͍͈̩̣͈ju̖͖̫̲̥ͅs�*̮̝̝͕̪̝̥t͖̻̬͞ l͎̮͡ẹ̶͇͎̳̗̣ṯ̶̟̤̥̗ ͚me̩͔͚ ̸̳̱͔̜̣͔b̬͇͝é.̸ ̯̙̝͍̥̣P͙̙͍͖̬l̡̟̬̤ͅe͟a�*͍͎̹s�*̺̺̞̳͙e̺͚͕͍ ̜͍͈̩̣͈ju̖͖̫̲̥ͅs�*̮̝̝͕̪̝̥t͖̻̬͞ l͎̮͡ẹ̶͇͎̳̗̣ṯ̶̟̤̥̗ ͚me̩͔͚ ̸̳̱͔̜̣͔b̬͇͝é.̸ ̯̙̝͍̥̣P͙̙͍͖̬l̡̟̬̤ͅe͟a�*͍͎̹s�*̺̺̞̳͙e̺͚͕͍ ̜͍͈̩̣͈ju̖͖̫̲̥ͅs�*̮̝̝͕̪̝̥t͖̻̬͞ l͎̮͡ẹ̶͇͎̳̗̣ṯ̶̟̤̥̗ ͚me̩͔͚ ̸̳̱͔̜̣͔b̬͇͝é.̸ ̯̙̝͍̥̣P͙̙͍͖̬l̡̟̬̤ͅe͟a�*͍͎̹s�*̺̺̞̳͙e̺͚͕͍ ̜͍͈̩̣͈ju̖͖̫̲̥ͅs�*̮̝̝͕̪̝̥t͖̻̬͞ l͎̮͡ẹ̶͇͎̳̗̣ṯ̶̟̤̥̗ ͚me̩͔͚ ̸̳̱͔̜̣͔b̬͇͝é.̸ ̯̙̝͍̥̣P͙̙͍͖̬l̡̟̬̤ͅe͟a�*͍͎̹s�*̺̺̞̳͙e̺͚͕͍ ̜͍͈̩̣͈ju̖͖̫̲̥ͅs�*̮̝̝͕̪̝̥t͖̻̬͞ l͎̮͡ẹ̶͇͎̳̗̣ṯ̶̟̤̥̗ ͚me̩͔͚ ̸̳̱͔̜̣͔b̬͇͝é.̸ ̯
͕̫̜̱P̺̥͓l̡̺e͢a͈͍̩se̞̫̣̩ͅ ̸̲̱̙̟̪̝j͡u̯͈͈̰̞s̙͔͕̩̩t̻̲͖̹͘�* ̟͍̺̮̳͙l̡͙̝�*̦è̦�*t�*̬̱ ̛m͚̀e̫̬̼̲͇̬͝�* ̧̺b̘̬e̢̼͚͉.̗͔�*͈͉͉ ͏͎̻̫͎͖ ҉̰͔
̬̝̣̺͖P̼͖̲l̻͍e̦̕a̟̜̣͝s͈̗̫͈̞͉̻͢e͏̞̣͕̙ ̛j͍̲us̟̬̰͖t̢̲̹̖ ̣͎̰̜�*ḷ̯̬e͏̙̹̲t͈̺̩̩ ̷̗͖̺͚͔m̰̼e͉̦̫͔̮ ̺̣͖̖̟b̯̪͈̟̝̱͖͡e̛�*͖͇̫̦̣.͉�*̻ ̻ ̙̝͍̥̣P͙̙͍͖̬l̡̟̬̤ͅe͟a�*͍͎̹s�*̺̺̞̳͙e̺͚͕͍ ̜͍͈̩̣͈ju̖͖̫̲̥ͅs�*̮̝̝͕̪̝̥t͖̻̬͞ l͎̮͡ẹ̶͇͎̳̗̣ṯ̶̟̤̥̗ ͚me̩͔͚ ̸̳̱͔̜̣͔b̬͇͝é.̸ ̯̙̝͍̥̣P͙̙͍͖̬l̡̟̬̤ͅe͟a�*͍͎̹s�*̺̺̞̳͙e̺͚͕͍ ̜͍͈̩̣͈ju̖͖̫̲̥ͅs�*̮̝̝͕̪̝̥t͖̻̬͞ l͎̮͡ẹ̶͇͎̳̗̣ṯ̶̟̤̥̗ ͚me̩͔͚ ̸̳̱͔̜̣͔b̬͇͝é.̸ ̯̙̝͍̥̣P͙̙͍͖̬l̡̟̬̤ͅe͟a�*͍͎̹s�*̺̺̞̳͙e̺͚͕͍ ̜͍͈̩̣͈ju̖͖̫̲̥ͅs�*̮̝̝͕̪̝̥t͖̻̬͞ l͎̮͡ẹ̶͇͎̳̗̣ṯ̶̟̤̥̗ ͚me̩͔͚ ̸̳̱͔̜̣͔b̬͇͝é.̸ ̯̙̝͍̥̣P͙̙͍͖̬l̡̟̬̤ͅe͟a�*͍͎̹s�*̺̺̞̳͙e̺͚͕͍ ̜͍͈̩̣͈ju̖͖̫̲̥ͅs�*̮̝̝͕̪̝̥t͖̻̬͞ l͎̮͡ẹ̶͇͎̳̗̣ṯ̶̟̤̥̗ ͚me̩͔͚ ̸̳̱͔̜̣͔b̬͇͝é.̸ ̯̙̝͍̥̣P͙̙͍͖̬l̡̟̬̤ͅe͟a�*͍͎̹s�*̺̺̞̳͙e̺͚͕͍ ̜͍͈̩̣͈ju̖͖̫̲̥ͅs�*̮̝̝͕̪̝̥t͖̻̬͞ l͎̮͡ẹ̶͇͎̳̗̣ṯ̶̟̤̥̗ ͚me̩͔͚ ̸̳̱͔̜̣͔b̬͇͝é.̸ ̯̙̝͍̥̣P͙̙͍͖̬l̡̟̬̤ͅe͟a�*͍͎̹s�*̺̺̞̳͙e̺͚͕͍ ̜͍͈̩̣͈ju̖͖̫̲̥ͅs�*̮̝̝͕̪̝̥t͖̻̬͞ l͎̮͡ẹ̶͇͎̳̗̣ṯ̶̟̤̥̗ ͚me̩͔͚ ̸̳̱͔̜̣͔b̬͇͝é.̸ ̯̙̝͍̥̣P͙̙͍͖̬l̡̟̬̤ͅe͟a�*͍͎̹s�*̺̺̞̳͙e̺͚͕͍ ̜͍͈̩̣͈ju̖͖̫̲̥ͅs�*̮̝̝͕̪̝̥t͖̻̬͞ l͎̮͡ẹ̶͇͎̳̗̣ṯ̶̟̤̥̗ ͚me̩͔͚ ̸̳̱͔̜̣͔b̬͇͝é.̸ ̯
̙̝͍̥̣P͙̙͍͖̬l̡̟̬̤ͅe͟a�*͍͎̹s�*̺̺̞̳͙e̺͚͕͍ ̜͍͈̩̣͈ju̖͖̫̲̥ͅs�*̮̝̝͕̪̝̥t͖̻̬͞ l͎̮͡ẹ̶͇͎̳̗̣ṯ̶̟̤̥̗ ͚me̩͔͚ ̸̳̱͔̜̣͔b̬͇͝é.̸ ̯̙̝͍̥̣P͙̙͍͖̬l̡̟̬̤ͅe͟a�*͍͎̹s�*̺̺̞̳͙e̺͚͕͍ ̜͍͈̩̣͈ju̖͖̫̲̥ͅs�*̮̝̝͕̪̝̥t͖̻̬͞ l͎̮͡ẹ̶͇͎̳̗̣ṯ̶̟̤̥̗ ͚me̩͔͚ ̸̳̱͔̜̣͔b̬͇͝é.̸ ̯̙̝͍̥̣P͙̙͍͖̬l̡̟̬̤ͅe͟a�*͍͎̹s�*̺̺̞̳͙e̺͚͕͍ ̜͍͈̩̣͈ju̖͖̫̲̥ͅs�*̮̝̝͕̪̝̥t͖̻̬͞ l͎̮͡ẹ̶͇͎̳̗̣ṯ̶̟̤̥̗ ͚me̩͔͚ ̸̳̱͔̜̣͔b̬͇͝é.̸ ̯̙̝͍̥̣P͙̙͍͖̬l̡̟̬̤ͅe͟a�*͍͎̹s�*̺̺̞̳͙e̺͚͕͍ ̜͍͈̩̣͈ju̖͖̫̲̥ͅs�*̮̝̝͕̪̝̥t͖̻̬͞ l͎̮͡ẹ̶͇͎̳̗̣ṯ̶̟̤̥̗ ͚me̩͔͚ ̸̳̱͔̜̣͔b̬͇͝é.̸ ̯̙̝͍̥̣P͙̙͍͖̬l̡̟̬̤ͅe͟a�*͍͎̹s�*̺̺̞̳͙e̺͚͕͍ ̜͍͈̩̣͈ju̖͖̫̲̥ͅs�*̮̝̝͕̪̝̥t͖̻̬͞ l͎̮͡ẹ̶͇͎̳̗̣ṯ̶̟̤̥̗ ͚me̩͔͚ ̸̳̱͔̜̣͔b̬͇͝é.̸ ̯̙̝͍̥̣P͙̙͍͖̬l̡̟̬̤ͅe͟a�*͍͎̹s�*̺̺̞̳͙e̺͚͕͍ ̜͍͈̩̣͈ju̖͖̫̲̥ͅs�*̮̝̝͕̪̝̥t͖̻̬͞ l͎̮͡ẹ̶͇͎̳̗̣ṯ̶̟̤̥̗ ͚me̩͔͚ ̸̳̱͔̜̣͔b̬͇͝é.̸ ̯̙̝͍̥̣P͙̙͍͖̬l̡̟̬̤ͅe͟a�*͍͎̹s�*̺̺̞̳͙e̺͚͕͍ ̜͍͈̩̣͈ju̖͖̫̲̥ͅs�*̮̝̝͕̪̝̥t͖̻̬͞ l͎̮͡ẹ̶͇͎̳̗̣ṯ̶̟̤̥̗ ͚me̩͔͚ ̸̳̱͔̜̣͔b̬͇͝é.̸ ̯
P̩̗̱̮l̷̬e̫a̜̻s̟͚͙̪̣͘ͅe͏̞̦̺͔͈̱ ̴̩͚j̷̹u̥�*͚̣̩s͍̱t̨�*̺̖̙̻ ̙̫̘̮̰̱l͓e̟̮t̥̹͇͉ ̳͕͕̲͎m̱̟e̟ ̷̥b̺͙̼̱̞̙͍ę͙̖̼. ̯̱͙͉̙̤̙̝͍̥̣P͙̙͍͖̬l̡̟̬̤ͅe͟a�*͍͎̹s�*̺̺̞̳͙e̺͚͕͍ ̜͍͈̩̣͈ju̖͖̫̲̥ͅs�*̮̝̝͕̪̝̥t͖̻̬͞ l͎̮͡ẹ̶͇͎̳̗̣ṯ̶̟̤̥̗ ͚me̩͔͚ ̸̳̱͔̜̣͔b̬͇͝é.̸ ̯̙̝͍̥̣P͙̙͍͖̬l̡̟̬̤ͅe͟a�*͍͎̹s�*̺̺̞̳͙e̺͚͕͍ ̜͍͈̩̣͈ju̖͖̫̲̥ͅs�*̮̝̝͕̪̝̥t͖̻̬͞ l͎̮͡ẹ̶͇͎̳̗̣ṯ̶̟̤̥̗ ͚me̩͔͚ ̸̳̱͔̜̣͔b̬͇͝é.̸ ̯̙̝͍̥̣P͙̙͍͖̬l̡̟̬̤ͅe͟a�*͍͎̹s�*̺̺̞̳͙e̺͚͕͍ ̜͍͈̩̣͈ju̖͖̫̲̥ͅs�*̮̝̝͕̪̝̥t͖̻̬͞ l͎̮͡ẹ̶͇͎̳̗̣ṯ̶̟̤̥̗ ͚me̩͔͚ ̸̳̱͔̜̣͔b̬͇͝é.̸ ̯̙̝͍̥̣P͙̙͍͖̬l̡̟̬̤ͅe͟a�*͍͎̹s�*̺̺̞̳͙e̺͚͕͍ ̜͍͈̩̣͈ju̖͖̫̲̥ͅs�*̮̝̝͕̪̝̥t͖̻̬͞ l͎̮͡ẹ̶͇͎̳̗̣ṯ̶̟̤̥̗ ͚me̩͔͚ ̸̳̱͔̜̣͔b̬͇͝é.̸ ̯̙̝͍̥̣P͙̙͍͖̬l̡̟̬̤ͅe͟a�*͍͎̹s�*̺̺̞̳͙e̺͚͕͍ ̜͍͈̩̣͈ju̖͖̫̲̥ͅs�*̮̝̝͕̪̝̥t͖̻̬͞ l͎̮͡ẹ̶͇͎̳̗̣ṯ̶̟̤̥̗ ͚me̩͔͚ ̸̳̱͔̜̣͔b̬͇͝é.̸ ̯̙̝͍̥̣P͙̙͍͖̬l̡̟̬̤ͅe͟a�*͍͎̹s�*̺̺̞̳͙e̺͚͕͍ ̜͍͈̩̣͈ju̖͖̫̲̥ͅs�*̮̝̝͕̪̝̥t͖̻̬͞ l͎̮͡ẹ̶͇͎̳̗̣ṯ̶̟̤̥̗ ͚me̩͔͚ ̸̳̱͔̜̣͔b̬͇͝é.̸ ̯
P͚̤͇͇̻͙̙̀l̛̟e̳a͏̖͈͇̳̻s̷͚̳̼͓e͎̮͍͓͚ ̺j̱͉̪̩͉͚u̳s�*t̢̯͓̣̦͍̦̹ ͔̱̲l͔͚̥͓͎͝e̸̫t�*̘ ͘�*͎m̯̣͍̰ͅͅe̫̲̰̜̼̮ͅ ̹̞͜b̝̪͟e̪̦͟.͎ ͙̬̞̙̝͍̥̣͘P͙̙͍͖̬l̡̟̬̤ͅe͟a�*͍͎̹s�*̺̺̞̳͙e̺͚͕͍ ̜͍͈̩̣͈ju̖͖̫̲̥ͅs�*̮̝̝͕̪̝̥t͖̻̬͞ l͎̮͡ẹ̶͇͎̳̗̣ṯ̶̟̤̥̗ ͚me̩͔͚ ̸̳̱͔̜̣͔b̬͇͝é.̸ ̯̙̝͍̥̣P͙̙͍͖̬l̡̟̬̤ͅe͟a�*͍͎̹s�*̺̺̞̳͙e̺͚͕͍ ̜͍͈̩̣͈ju̖͖̫̲̥ͅs�*̮̝̝͕̪̝̥t͖̻̬͞ l͎̮͡ẹ̶͇͎̳̗̣ṯ̶̟̤̥̗ ͚me̩͔͚ ̸̳̱͔̜̣͔b̬͇͝é.̸ ̯̙̝͍̥̣P͙̙͍͖̬l̡̟̬̤ͅe͟a�*͍͎̹s�*̺̺̞̳͙e̺͚͕͍ ̜͍͈̩̣͈ju̖͖̫̲̥ͅs�*̮̝̝͕̪̝̥t͖̻̬͞ l͎̮͡ẹ̶͇͎̳̗̣ṯ̶̟̤̥̗ ͚me̩͔͚ ̸̳̱͔̜̣͔b̬͇͝é.̸ ̯̙̝͍̥̣P͙̙͍͖̬l̡̟̬̤ͅe͟a�*͍͎̹s�*̺̺̞̳͙e̺͚͕͍ ̜͍͈̩̣͈ju̖͖̫̲̥ͅs�*̮̝̝͕̪̝̥t͖̻̬͞ l͎̮͡ẹ̶͇͎̳̗̣ṯ̶̟̤̥̗ ͚me̩͔͚ ̸̳̱͔̜̣͔b̬͇͝é.̸ ̯̙̝͍̥̣P͙̙͍͖̬l̡̟̬̤ͅe͟a�*͍͎̹s�*̺̺̞̳͙e̺͚͕͍ ̜͍͈̩̣͈ju̖͖̫̲̥ͅs�*̮̝̝͕̪̝̥t͖̻̬͞ l͎̮͡ẹ̶͇͎̳̗̣ṯ̶̟̤̥̗ ͚me̩͔͚ ̸̳̱͔̜̣͔b̬͇͝é.̸ ̯̙̝͍̥̣P͙̙͍͖̬l̡̟̬̤ͅe͟a�*͍͎̹s�*̺̺̞̳͙e̺͚͕͍ ̜͍͈̩̣͈ju̖͖̫̲̥ͅs�*̮̝̝͕̪̝̥t͖̻̬͞ l͎̮͡ẹ̶͇͎̳̗̣ṯ̶̟̤̥̗ ͚me̩͔͚ ̸̳̱͔̜̣͔b̬͇͝é.̸ ̯̙̝͍̥̣P͙̙͍͖̬l̡̟̬̤ͅe͟a�*͍͎̹s�*̺̺̞̳͙e̺͚͕͍ ̜͍͈̩̣͈ju̖͖̫̲̥ͅs�*̮̝̝͕̪̝̥t͖̻̬͞ l͎̮͡ẹ̶͇͎̳̗̣ṯ̶̟̤̥̗ ͚me̩͔͚ ̸̳̱͔̜̣͔b̬͇͝é.̸ ̯̙̝͍̥̣P͙̙͍͖̬l̡̟̬̤ͅe͟a�*͍͎̹s�*̺̺̞̳͙e̺͚͕͍ ̜͍͈̩̣͈ju̖͖̫̲̥ͅs�*̮̝̝͕̪̝̥t͖̻̬͞ l͎̮͡ẹ̶͇͎̳̗̣ṯ̶̟̤̥̗ ͚me̩͔͚ ̸̳̱͔̜̣͔b̬͇͝é.̸ ̯̙̝͍̥̣P͙̙͍͖̬l̡̟̬̤ͅe͟a�*͍͎̹s�*̺̺̞̳͙e̺͚͕͍ ̜͍͈̩̣͈ju̖͖̫̲̥ͅs�*̮̝̝͕̪̝̥t͖̻̬͞ l͎̮͡ẹ̶͇͎̳̗̣ṯ̶̟̤̥̗ ͚me̩͔͚ ̸̳̱͔̜̣͔b̬͇͝é.̸ ̯̙̝͍̥̣P͙̙͍͖̬l̡̟̬̤ͅe͟a�*͍͎̹s�*̺̺̞̳͙e̺͚͕͍ ̜͍͈̩̣͈ju̖͖̫̲̥ͅs�*̮̝̝͕̪̝̥t͖̻̬͞ l͎̮͡ẹ̶͇͎̳̗̣ṯ̶̟̤̥̗ ͚me̩͔͚ ̸̳̱͔̜̣͔b̬͇͝é.̸ ̯̙̝͍̥̣P͙̙͍͖̬l̡̟̬̤ͅe͟a�*͍͎̹s�*̺̺̞̳͙e̺͚͕͍ ̜͍͈̩̣͈ju̖͖̫̲̥ͅs�*̮̝̝͕̪̝̥t͖̻̬͞ l͎̮͡ẹ̶͇͎̳̗̣ṯ̶̟̤̥̗ ͚me̩͔͚ ̸̳̱͔̜̣͔b̬͇͝é.̸ ̯̙̝͍̥̣P͙̙͍͖̬l̡̟̬̤ͅe͟a�*͍͎̹s�*̺̺̞̳͙e̺͚͕͍ ̜͍͈̩̣͈ju̖͖̫̲̥ͅs�*̮̝̝͕̪̝̥t͖̻̬͞ l͎̮͡ẹ̶͇͎̳̗̣ṯ̶̟̤̥̗ ͚me̩͔͚ ̸̳̱͔̜̣͔b̬͇͝é.̸ ̯̙̝͍̥̣P͙̙͍͖̬l̡̟̬̤ͅe͟a�*͍͎̹s�*̺̺̞̳͙e̺͚͕͍ ̜͍͈̩̣͈ju̖͖̫̲̥ͅs�*̮̝̝͕̪̝̥t͖̻̬͞ l͎̮͡ẹ̶͇͎̳̗̣ṯ̶̟̤̥̗ ͚me̩͔͚ ̸̳̱͔̜̣͔b̬͇͝é.̸ ̯

don't let me become this....

I had doubled over, pushing away from him. Eyes wide and frantic, flashes of gold bursting forth from reddened irises and blackened cracks. my entire being..why?

Why? WHY?

Shaking, my eyes finally landed on a blurred figure.

There. I reached out to the figure with shaking hands. A brilliant golden flash blinded my vision. Still...I held fast to his form.



"K-kill me."

The quiet calm faded quickly into a maelstrom. Her weak voice bellowed for him to stop speaking. So, he did. Perhaps Madison's information paid off when Lye noticed a faint golden glow. Scarlet doubled over and shoved away from him. The glow shone brighter, and her body writhed in discomfort. He watched, unsure what to expect. He wanted to believe something started to repair her failing condition. Without that fragment of her soul, could it be done?

She turned to him, a panic in her otherwise emotionless face. Her hands clutched his, but the pain of her blight disappeared. She then begged him.

"Kill me."

His face failed to show emotion, but his mind swam with confusion. If he killed her in this state, what would happen? Would she recover? Would irreparable damage be done? Would she revive broken or healed? Should he do nothing? What of the child.

The child.

"No," he stated with a heavy tone. "I won't. Not this time."

He stared into the golden hues that threatened to overtake the darkness in her eyes. Like before: the warm golden hues that hooked him.

"You live for not just yourself. You live for our child now," the assassin spoke.

The information slipped so freely from his lips. Perhaps the news would give her that push. That push just over the edge of darkness and back into the light. If she had a reason, either from hatred of him or fond devotion, perhaps she would use it to keep herself whole. He knew full well it could be another man's but did she?

"Come back to me, Scarlet," Lye cooed as the woman twisted in agony.

Quote:

---

DISCLAIMER: This post contains material that may be sensitive to some readers, please read at your own discretion

---

He wouldn't kill me!? Why? WHY? W̯͈͔̬̘̫H̞̘͔̗ͅ ̰Ỳ̵̲̹ He reveled in it! He enjoyed it. I knew he did. The way his thin lips twisted up into a satisfied snarl, the way his pulse increased...and how I could feel that exhilaration pump through him through the pads of his fingers as I struggled to breathe. He enjoyed taking my life, just like he did any other- so why now deny me my right?


"You live for not just yourself. You live for our child now."

His words didn't quite reach me, not at first. They didn't make sense. A child? I was no child. We did not adopt any. Granted, Advencia was more childlike than most would realize but -

but...

My eyes widened as I struggled to look up at him, burning pain wracking every inch of my body. Did he just say our child?

"K-Kill it!" I hissed. I couldn't be, I shouldn't be! I thought I wasn't able to conceive. HOw did this HaPpEn? I immedietly gripped my abdomen, sinking my fingernails into my skin. I held in a cry of pain as wave after wave of agony shot through my burning body. I had to remove it. It CouLd not JeaPorDize the CrImSon HanD.

It was nOt my job to be a ḿ̬͕͇͢�*o̴̢̮̱Ì� �̤t̸̟̝hÍÌ¨Ì«Ì«ÍÍ–Ì¹Í ™Í•e̶̷̤͙r̴̨̳̖̣.

My one and only purpose was to KiLl.

My body retched and I spluttered up a dark, almost black blood as I dug my fingers deeper into the flesh of my abdomen. I just had to...get rid...of it. It was a ḅ̢̫̘̺̜̻͢ͅuÍŸÌ·Ì� �̪ͅr̻̼̯͚̯͉̫̬͞d� �¢Ì©Ì£Ìže͇͇̮͜͢n�*͏ ̘͍̘̺̩͕̜̗͘ a weaknEss. I tried to dig my fingers in deeper, blood oozed from my wounds and I could feel the meaty sinue of my own muscle tissue but before I could force my fingers deeper into my own body I felt his strong grip around my wrists.

"I've already considered that, I do not think it would work in your case." His words were low and pensive as he pulled my fingers away. He held my wrists firmly as he pulled me closer. "Scarlet. I need you, and I need our child." I struggled against his grip, but in my current state I was too weak to fight.

"L-Liability." I breathed. I fell foward to have my head rest upon his shoulder.

"I know." He said.

"C-can't..." I breathed, I could see glimmers and flashes of golden light healing my wounds. I could feel it, the pain, the nausea - I struggled to keep up. Shit....I was loosing consciousness again.

"It's ok..." He cooed, gently running his fingers through my matted red hair and this time it was genuine. His body wasn't rigid and his eyes weren't drifted off into the distance, they were focused on me. I could see that, even with my hazy vision and as much as I fought it. His ministrations slowly pushed me into a state of unconsciousness.

---

The next few days were a blur, it could have been three days, maybe a week...I spent most of it writhing and screaming in agony when I was conscious. I caught glimpses of things. Of Lichensith Ulroke, and Zero - arguing over my barely breathing form. Of Richard and he, discussing quietly amongst themselves over his desk. Of Advencia who came in often, changing my dressings and binding me with thick chains to the bed so I would not harm myself.

I don't remember... but apparently I had tried to rip the little thing inside of me out time and time again...

Finally, I was feeling somewhat sane again.

my eyes fluttered open and they were met with the blurry visage of a very familiar silver haired man. I could feel a cool sensation pressed firmly against my head and seeing his outstretched arm meant one thing. He was tending to me. My head, my fever. It felt like it had finally broke.

"Lye?" I asked, reaching out to place a hand over his.

He glanced down at me. "Your eyes." He commented as his fingers gently grazed my eyelids.

"What about them?" My voice felt weak, I still felt ill but no longer did my entire being feel like it was on fire.

"A pitiless black with a center as red as your hair, but surrounding that is a golden rim." He paused, I tried to read the emotion on his face but if he felt anything it did not show. "Welcome back Scarlet."


His words confused me. Everything felt so surreal. had the last few weeks even happened? "Am I-"

"Yes."

"Is it your-"

"Yes." His second confirmation was spoken with more resolution, he wouldn't even let me finish the question.

I shifted my gaze to the ceiling. This...complicated things. How was I supposed to do my job. I wasn't sure what I felt, if anything. Should I be happy? Annoyed? I could feel something stirring inside of me, and I knew that my days being 'an emotionless demon' were coming to an end. I would remain adament though... that I would not let emotions rule me, nor will I let them reign as free as they once were.

"I am...not sure what I am supposed to feel at this moment."

I slowly sat up, aware of Lye leaning forward, arm ready to catch me if I were to falter.

"How long... have I been -" I paused, how do I describe what I went through?

"How long was I broken?"

"It doesn't matter," he responded. "Madison has told me some about your kind. You're not as immortal as I once thought."

The assassin let his fingers run long her skin. The deep cracks and broken porcelain seemed mended... in a way. Instead of the inky black and seeping void of death, her tainted marks felt coarse to the touch like a wound scabbed over. Some areas seemed healed entirely and others left behind the pinkish hue of a minor scar. His gentle touch slowed and stopped over her stomach. She was quick to clutch his hand and move it aside.

"It that why I have this... thing inside me?" Scarlet hissed, her eyes downcast from his.

"No, that is not related." Lye moved his hand to her chin and forced her to look at him. Instead of a gentle gaze, he looked her over. Specifically, the golden trim that highlighted the depths of the darkness.

"You're a bomb." He let her free and stood to collect some herbs from his alchemy desk. "An unstable force of nature. I already knew this... to a degree."

"Not like that's steam science..." Scarlet muttered. She scooped the frayed and charred sheets around her and tried to cover her exposed nudity. Lye tossed a sideways glare over his shoulder before returning to his mixture.

"What I mean is, you need me. Haven't you noticed that this never got so out of control with... him?" He referenced her brother, keen to avoid the name in her sensitive state. "Despite his actions, you are dependent on another. A companion."

Lye returned to her with a flask of a light brownish color. It's aroma of floral and earthy notes wafted from its lip.

"Here," he offered it to her. "An herbal remedy to help relax the muscles and ease the mind."

With some hesitation, she took it from his hand.

"I don't understand." Scarlet held the drink cupped in her hands and stared blankly at it. "None of this makes any sense."

She felt Lye's hand on her back before he pulled her against him into an embrace. The action unsettled her, and he brows pursed together in confusion.

"Just relax," he cooed. "So long as you never leave me, you'll remain yourself. Keep your distance from anyone else in your past. That samurai included."

"Do you think I'm stupid?" I asked, staring down into the floral remedy that he had given me. I'd drink it, eventually. I knew that it couldn't possibly be anything that would be purely beneficial. No. Everything about him, it always had something else to it. Another reason. Another layer. Another motive.

My comment wasn't directed at the concoction I held between my fingers but at his comments. His insistence that I needed someone. Not just someone, but him. "Dependent on a companion..." I repeated his words as I rolled the flask gently to and fro watching as the liquid followed suit. I was aware of his hand against my back and the warmth that radiated from it. I wasn't sure if he was attempting to be genuinely kind or of it was some sort of ruse. I told myself it was a ruse. It always was with him.

With everyone really...

Finally, I spoke. "You've wanted me to stand strong on my own, but I wandered too far for your liking. You thought to have lost control over me." I glanced to the side but could not see his expression. My eyes were met with a tangled mess of red and the side of his torso. I closed my eyes. "You're trying to reign it in. You're trying to reign me in. As a bomb I'm useless, unless used as some form of final gambit." I paused.

I could hear the slow rhythmic beating of his heart from this position, the light thud, thud against my head. I spoke my next thoughts aloud. "Despite everything. You're still but a man." I wanted to feel something in this moment. I felt like I should feel something but there wasn't really anything there. Just reminiscent things stirring beneath a scarred surface. Emotions and feelings I couldn't quite grasp. It was tiring to say the least.

"You don't have to lie to me. I had already made that decision on my own. I don't need anyone else. Everyone else..." I paused, furrowing my brows as my eyes met the liquid. "They tell worse lies. The kind made to build you up only to tear you down. The kind that promises some sort of happy ending."

One hand left the flask and found its way to loop around his upper leg. I squeezed it tightly. "You're stuck with me. And I you." I rose the flask to my lips and let the liquid fall past into my mouth, it swirled around in a myriad of bitter sweetness before I swallowed. It was thicker than I expected. Lye was a master Alchemist and I knew whatever he planned to wash over me, would do so in mere minutes...seconds.

"You once said I would go mad trying to understand you." I lifted my head, which was heavy ever so slightly off his shoulder so I could gaze into his dead emerald eyes. "I think I already have. This...thing...is a liability." His face held no reaction. I sighed as I let my head fall to his lap.

"You once said that there will be a time where we will fight, and I would be the one to take your life. People are coming for you. You're on edge. I will fight them, I will rip them all apart." My words were soft, I felt tired. "Lye..." The way I said his name, nestled there in his lap, I wasn't sure what emotion it was, but it was...something.

"If it comes to it, I'll be damned if I let anyone take you but me."

Shattered Soul and Heart.
No Judgement

Rewards:

Lye receives:
1540 EXP
110 Gold

Amari receives:
1615 EXP
140 Gold

Tainted Bushido receives:
125 EXP
15 Gold

Inclusive of Amari's Noble Commerce ability.

all rewards have been added.