#you can explain it away once she's off the ground and bandaged up you apathetic fucking freaks

[highonchocolate]

Take Two: The Guardian in Gotham Chapter 2

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Barging into the locker room, the four were met with a scene that was straight out of a horror movie. The four teens felt tears come to their eyes at the sight of their friend. She was lying on her right side, curled up on the floor, surrounded by a small pool of blood. Her raven hair, normally pulled back in her signature pigtails, was messy and strewn around her head as if someone had grabbed her near the scalp and yanked. Her left arm was loosely curled over her abdomen, limply wrapped around her. The other arm was awkwardly bent at an unnatural angle-definitely broken. They looked lower and saw her legs. Her knees were pulled up to her chest, and the left leg was fractured. You could see the jagged edges of the break through her skin. All in all, she made for a wonderfully horrifying sight. 

The four stood there. Stricken. Taking in the sight of the strong, bubbly girl lying so lifelessly on the ground. All of them angry at themselves for not staying behind to protect her. It was then, standing in an empty locker room, with the iron tang of their best friend’s blood filling the air that they all silently swore to make Lila Rossi and her gang of mindless sheep pay.

“I know it hurts to see such a strong pillar of kindness looking so broken, but you must remain strong, and help her as much as you can.” It was Tikki’s gentle words that broke them from their murderous trains of thought. They immediately snapped into action. 

“Luka, Kagami, you both need to go to the bakery and explain to the Dupain-Chengs what happened. Adrikins, you need to explain to your father why you ditched your photographer, and ran out in the middle of a shoot. Tikki and I will take our Bug to the hospital. Got it?” Chloé ordered, once again taking the charge of the situation, even as she pulled out her phone. Navigating to the camera app, she angled it to show all of Marinette’s injuries and quickly snapped a couple of pictures from different angles. Looking away from the screen and seeing the incredulous stares of the group, she rolled her eyes and responded “For photographic evidence of her injuries! Obviously.” She huffed “You’re all ridiculous! Utterly ridiculous! Now what are you waiting for? A royal proclamation?! Shoo!” 

At the sound of her exclamation, everyone rushed off to help Marinette.

---

Kagami and Luka immediately ran out of the school to the bakery, already worrying about the potential double akumas they might have to battle later. Dashing across the seat, they silently decided that Kagami’s blunt words were not ideal in explaining this to Tom and Sabine. The chime of the bell above the door alerted the woman in question to their presence. Making her way around the counter, she turned to greet them with a bright smile, before it dimmed to a frown at their grim faces. “Kagami, Luka, what’s wrong?” She questioned, wiping her hands on a small towel. The two in question silently exchanged looks before turning back to the small woman.  

“...It’s Marinette” Luka finally answered, fiddling with his guitar nervously. “She got assaulted by-” 

“It was that Lila girl, wasn’t it?” Sabine hissed. Glaring venomously up at them. 

“Yes it was, how did you know?” Luka questioned, shocked and taken aback at the woman’s statement.

Sabine smiled sadly, her eyes alight with fury. “I know my daughter. The instant she came home from school with that fake smile, trying to hide her torn sketchbook, I knew something was wrong.” Shaking herself out of her quiet contemplation, she directed her stare back to the two teens “Now, can you show me what’s wrong and tell Tom and I what we need to do?” 

Kagami was the one who responded this time. “We can show you the image, but you need to ensure that you won’t let your emotions get the best of you. The last thing Marinette would want to hear after getting discharged from the hospital is that her parents became akumatized.” She bluntly stated, pulling out her phone and handing it to the woman as she spoke. 

“I understand.” Sabine nodded, taking the phone from the girl’s outstretched hand. As she looked at the gruesome picture, she felt her heart break. That was her baby girl, and her so-called friends had done that to her! Looking at the two in front of her, she felt nothing but icy determination to make that liar’s castle of lies come crumbling down. 

“One of you stay and inform Tom, the other come with me. We’re going to the hospital.” She said as she handed the phone back to her daughter’s friends. Looks like she had some calls to make.

As their taxi drove to the hospital, Sabine punched in a familiar number and waited patiently for the other person to pick up. The ringing of the phone was abruptly cut off and replaced with a loud and cheery voice. 

“Sabine!” Gina exclaimed over the noise of honking cars. “How are you? And how is Marinetta?” The former quickly debriefed her mother-in-law on the situation regarding her granddaughter. She finished explaining as they pulled up to the hospital, and walked into the hospital as she waited for the older woman’s response.

“Well then! This simply must not do! I can get in contact with one of my friends in the States, and if all goes well my leetle fairy can stay with his family!” Gina exclaimed decisively. “I’ll call you back!”

Ending the call, Sabine walked into the waiting room and sat next to Luka and Chloé as she waited for her daughter.

---

As Luka and Kagami ran out of the locker room, Chloé looked at Adrien to see him already on the phone with his father. Closing out her photos, she quickly opened up her phone keypad and dialed 15. As she explained the situation to the officer on the other end of the call, she carefully monitored her injured friend. Ending the call she sighed and looked at the red goddess hovering near her worriedly. “Tikki,” she addressed the Kwami “you can hide in my jacket, or somewhere with Marinette. The ambulance should be here soon.” The small being looked at her gratefully before flying down to her chosen and placing a feather-light kiss on her forehead. Zooming back up to Chloé, she quickly settled in the blonde’s ponytail with a small thanks.

As she started to climb into the back of the ambulance, she was stopped by an officer demanding she go home. Looking at the man, she mustered up the coldest glare she could create and looked directly at the terrified fool. “For your information,” she sneered, pushing past him into the vehicle. “I am Chloé Bourgeois, and that girl in there is my best friend, so you will not keep me from her or I will make your life very difficult. Do you understand?” She hissed, slamming the door behind her. As they drove away she caught a glimpse of his pale, terrified face before they turned the corner. Smirking to herself, she turned to her friend’s prone body lying on the stretcher, and immediately sobered up and reverted to her take-charge daughter of the mayor persona. She quietly sat in the waiting room as Marinette was rolled into the ER.

---

Even as Chloé was issuing her orders, Adrien was already unlocking his phone and calling Nathalie. He stood anxiously on the steps as he waited for her to pick up.

“Adrien? Mme. Tsurugi had informed me that Mlle. Dupain-Cheng was injured at school. While I admire your concern for your friend, that does not excuse your behavior during the photoshoot.” The older woman’s emotionless voice greeted him as he opened his mouth to explain.

“But Nathalie! She wasn’t just injured! She was assaulted! You should see the pictures of how she looked!” He responded angrily as he texted her the image.

There was silence on the other end of the line as she looked at the image.

“...I see. I will show this to your father. If the Dupain-Chengs agree, he would be happy to pay for her hospital bill. Do you know who did this?” The secretary’s voice was as apathetic as usual, but there was an underlying tone of concern and anger.

“We think it might have been Lila,” Adrien responded hesitantly. “I saw her outside the school when we entered, and she has been bullying Marinette for a while...There’s a hidden camera we planted in the locker room. Could you pull up the footage and see what happened?”

Yes Adrien. You also have permission to go to the hospital, but make sure you practice your piano when you get home.” 

“Thank you Nathalie.” He responded, before he heard the dial tone as she hung up.

Placing his phone in his pocket, he looked down at the reluctant green-eyed Kwami in his jacket before transforming into Chat Noir and bounding across the rooftops to the hospital. 

---

Kagami and Tom came running in just as Marinette’s name was called. They stood next to Sabine, Luka and Chloé as she was wheeled into the room. She had a black brace on her right wrist, and another on her left leg. She had several scrapes and bruises, and there were bandages everywhere, but she was alive. As the nurse rattled off the medical report: broken ribs and wrist, a fractured leg, as well as bruising on her arms, abdomen and face; the group felt their fury grow. Marinettte, sensing this, quickly smiled up at them and asked if they could stay the night for a movie marathon and sleepover. 

Chloé promptly burst into tears and clutched her uninjured hand. “Oh MariBug, I’m so sorry this happened to you!” she croaked out through the tears.  “It’s not your fault, Chloé.” Marinette gently assured her. “It was Lila’s.” 

As they settled in amongst the many blankets and pillows with their food in hand, her statement was met with many calls of agreement, as well as complaints about the bully in question.

---

In Italy, Gina Dupain pulled out her phone and dialed a number she never thought she’d use again.

“Hello?” The voice on the other end is quiet and dignified, with a hint of a British accent.

“Hi, Alfred. I need a favor.”

---

Hanging up the phone, Alfred Pennyworth mulled over the interesting and saddening conversation he had just had with his old friend. Nodding to himself, he walked out of the room to find Master Bruce. If the image she sent him was anything to go by, Gina’s granddaughter desperately needed to get out of Paris.

As the Batmobile pulled into the garage, he walked over to Master Bruce and explained the situation. Although he was reluctant at first, once he saw the horrifying image, he went from unsure to furious at the thought of some teenagers doing this to their classmate! He didn’t even hesitate when he told Alfred that he would gladly have her stay in the Manor. With that reassurance, Alfred walked back upstairs to inform Gina.

---

In Paris the next morning, at around one AM, the movie marathon was still going strong when Sabine and Tom opened the trapdoor and peeked through. Marinette craned her head to look over from her position in the cuddle pile/blanket fort hybrid. “Maman? Papa?” She questioned. “What’s wrong?” Sabine smiled gently. “Nothing’s wrong mon bébé, it’s just…” she trailed off, unsure on how to proceed.

“How do you feel about going to Gotham, to stay with your Nonna Gina’s friend?” Tom cut in.

“His name is Alfred Pennyworth, and he works for Bruce Wayne.” Sabine added, smiling hopefully.

Marinette blinked confusedly as her Chloé and Adrien shouted with excitement at the sound of the name.

Well that was unexpected.

---

Bonus:

Marinette: *thinking* Bruce Wayne...

Chloé: *rolling her eyes* Only one of the richest men in the world!

Marinette: *thinking intensifies*

Adrien: *confused in cinnamon roll* Buginette how come you don't know who he is?

Marinette's Brain: error file not found

Marinette: *sweats nervously* Um... he's not big in the fashion industry??

Chloé and Adrien: *facepalm*

---

 Note: I update weekly, the thing is I had posted Chap. 1 to Ao3 last week, and so I posted both this week to catch up

#maribat #marinette dupain cheng #damian wayne #adrien agreste #chloe bourgeois #kagami tsurugi #alfred pennyworth #bruce wayne #tim drake #jason todd #dick grayson #lila rossi #alya cesaire #lila salt #class salt

[apriumjam]

Satsuriku no Tenshi Light Novel Volume 1 - B3 (Part 3)

Satsuriku no Tenshi - Until Death Do Them Part - B3 (Part 3)

Story by Makoto Sanada, written by Chiren Kina, illustrations by Negiyan, translations by me.

If you want to help out with translations, feel free to contact me!

Prologue | B7 | B6 | B5 | B4 (Part 1 / Part 2) | B3 (Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4) | Zack’s Memory || Index

After a while of walking, the two of them suddenly come across a steep edge, about three-metres deep.

“The hell is this?”

“…”

Swallowing, the two come to a halt.

The ground below the edge is filled with spikes, and the other side of the dim room has been split into two platforms. One side is connected to the floor they stand on by a rope bridge; the other has a series of brilliantly gleaming, gravestone like objects leading to it, like a maze.

On the other side of the room is a large television screen, and one door on either platform. The room is designed so that if one were to slip or lose their footing on either of the paths, they would fall and become impaled on the dangerous spikes below.

“Hey, what are we gonna do?” The moment Zack starts speaking to Ray, sirens resound through the room. The woman appears on the monitor.

((Hiii! I’m impressed you came this far. As you can see, the floor there is filled with dangerous spikes, so, if you fall, you’ll immediately be pierced to death! The two platforms over there lead to different rooms. Though they are a little different…it doesn’t matter which path you choose!))

“A little different…?” Ray asks, inclining her head.

((I don’t have to explain that to you, do I?))

The woman asks, giggling to herself.

((Anyway…don’t you think it’s about time you two broke up? …Your promise is absurdly pointless. Since you’re going to die anyway, it seems like a pretty unfair promise…))

Ray spontaneously looks toward Zack. However, she can’t see his expression very well in the dim room – on top of the fact that his face is wrapped in bandages. The woman, looking at Ray’s trembling features through the camera, continues on nonchalantly.

((…Well, if you die, that ridiculous promise won’t come to fruition anyway. So come along to the next room and try your best, all right? I’m looking forward to seeing which one of you will be punished first!))

(Soon, I should be able to see something wonderful…)

And thus, the woman kills the feed as she always does.

(Pointless…)

Ray grits her teeth slightly. That word feels like it might steal away her hope.

“Talkin’ all in circles like that…when the hell can we get outta this place…? Ugh, I’m so damn pissed off! I wanna kill her already…!” Zack irritably fidgets with his legs, kicking at the floor.

“…” That word once again causes an enormous reaction in Ray, though it doesn’t show on her face. She feels that she wants Zack to kill her already. But the promise she made with Zack – means that they must get out of the building safely first.

(But it’s pointless…?)

“Hey, why are ya still spacin’ out?” Zack asks, his voice even more irritated than before as he looks toward the girl, who hangs her head silently.

“Zack…you have to make sure to kill me when we get outside. Not just that woman.” Ray wants to confirm that their promise isn’t meaningless.

“Aah?! That’s all ya talk about!” Zack clicks his teeth in annoyance as his brows furrow.

“…But, you don’t seem like you’re going to kill me,” Ray says in dissatisfaction, with that emotionless face of hers.

“Huh? It’s ‘cause yer makin’ that boring face! And anyway, the promise we made only matters if we get out!”

“…I know that.”

Ray’s voice falters slightly as Zack’s grows louder.

(I know, but…)

For some reason, Ray can’t even imagine being killed by him.

“If ya know that, then stop jabberin’ about boring things all the time. ‘N do somethin’ about that doll-like face of yours before we get out.” Ray looks as if she still wants to say something, and that makes Zack’s voice grow cold.

“…But.”

“But what?” Zack scowls at her.

“…”

Ray loses her ability to speak as he stares at her with those snakelike eyes.

“Ya know, a promise is a promise…but don’t order me around,” he says firmly, expression grim.

(Order…)

The soft and bitter phrase has Ray turning her gaze away quietly.

“…Okay. I’m sorry.” Now, she rather regrets being so insistent. Her expression turns disheartened. Though, she wonders why. It shocks her for Zack to treat her so coldly. Somehow, while traversing this building with him, Zack has become an existence who she feels would accept everything about her…though there is absolutely no logic or reason for this.

“…So, what are we gonna do?” He sounds apathetic.

“Um…I’ll go over the bridge, and you’ll jump across the stones. I don’t think I’ll be able to jump the gaps. And the rope here looks like it might break, so I think it’ll be best if I cross here.” After taking a deep breath, she’s able to calmly explain Zack what they shall do, just as usual.

“If we go separate ways, we won’t be able t’ go through the same door. Is that okay?”

“I don’t know…she said that the rooms are a little different. But she didn’t say how…”

“Well, either way, it’s prolly a trap,” the man grumbles.

“…Yeah.”

“What? Ya seem worried. You said that we’d take different paths, right? It doesn’t look like we can both go the same way, and we have to move forward anyway. So that’s all we gotta do, right?”

“I know that…”

“Haah…you’ve been makin’ a dumb face for a while now. Still got some of the poison in ya or somethin’?” He simply sounds irritated by her perceived ineptitude.

“I’m okay now.”

“Then what’s bothering you?”

“…Nothing. I’ll try. So – ”

“Ugh, I get it. I know. Ya want me t’ kill ya, right?” He interrupts her, staring directly into her dead eyes.

“…” Shocked, she grows silent. She hadn’t wanted to tell him to kill her. She had wanted to tell him that they would get out, together. But, if she thinks about it, perhaps telling him they would get out together, and telling him he would kill her, are the same thing.

“Anyway, don’t go gettin’ any weird ideas. Don’t die.”

“…Right. It’s okay. I won’t die.”

“That so. Whatever. I’ll go first.”

“Okay.”

Ray carefully crosses the bridge. It takes her a bit of time, but she gets to the other side safely. However, she still can’t see Zack on the other side.

(Zack still isn’t here…I wonder if he’ll be able to get across.)

In that moment, the large monitor displays Zack in the process of making his way to the other side.

(If I just jump far enough, I’ll be able to get across.)

Zack jumps lightly across the stones, making sure not to fall. However, the stones have been constructed like a maze, and it’s not that easy to get across. Before he knows it, he’s leaping aimlessly from one and the other.

“Damnit, how am I supposed t’ do this?”

He isn’t afraid – however, his vexation is steadily growing.

“Zack, go back.”

In that moment, he hears Ray’s voice from the other side of the room. It seems she’s gotten there faster than him.

“Aah?! Why?!”

“I can see you on the monitor. If you go this way, you won’t be able to get to the other side. Zack, just jump where I tell you to.” He’s simply stuck like this. That’s why Ray says this.

(…I told ya not t’ order me around.)

However, to Zack, this was not an especially attractive proposal. Unpleasant memories from his childhood come flooding back. He remains silent. He hates being told what to do.

“…Zack?” She thinks it’s strange that he doesn’t respond. Her head tilts in confusion. Ray has absolutely no intention of ordering anything of him. She simply wants to be useful to him.

“…Yeah, yeah, I just gotta go back.” Despite his anger, he does as asked.

“Okay. Once you go back, jump to the upper right. Then to the upper left…” Looking up at the screen, she gives him the proper directions of how to get to the other side of the room.

(…Aah, she’s just tellin’ me what t’ do.)

The vexation within Zack’s heart grows more and more virulent. He feels like Ray is treating him like her personal tool.

“Next, the lower right.”

In that moment, his rage becomes absolutely unbearable, and he can’t help but yell –

“Hey! I ain’t some video game character! Stop tellin’ me where t’ go!”

“But, I think it’ll be faster if I tell you…and if you don’t know how to get here, it’ll be a bit difficult…” A little surprise leaks into her voice as she protests. She has not even an ounce of ill will.

“It’s fine, there’s only a bit left.” Despite understanding this, he’s still angry. She might not be doing this out of malice, but he feels like he’ll go crazy if she keeps telling him what to do.

“…I see.”

(…He really is upset.)

Feeling a bit ill, she looks away from the screen.

▲▽

After getting to the other side safely, the two proceed through their own individual doors.

(…Huh?)

But they can still see each other. If not for the iron bars separating them as if to keep them from touching, they would be in the same room.

Ray meets Zack’s eyes. The look she sees in them reminds her of when she had first met him on B6 – it looks as if he wants to lash out, an irrational rage he can hardly contain.

“Zack, this room…”

Completely unafraid of that gaze, she draws nearer to him easily.

“Yeah…looks like we’re locked in, and the only stuff in here are these syringes. What’re we supposed t’ do? She tellin’ us t’ get high or somethin’? Hah.” His tone sounds vaguely desperate.

(Syringe?)

She looks around the room once more. In the centre of both their rooms is a table and a syringe containing some sort of drug. Carefully, so as not to touch the sharp needle, she picks up hers.

(…It’s real. What’s inside it?)

Holding it up to the light, she stares intently into the suspicious orange liquid.

“Ahahahah!”

In that moment, a very familiar laughter bounces upon their eardrums – a laughter they’ve heard through the speakers on this floor.

“Hiiii! This is the first time we’ve met in the flesh. I am this floor’s condemner, Cathy!”

The woman with perfectly done-up makeup stands above them in a mezzanine, looking at them through the door. However, as far as they can see, there are no stairs leading to that room, and the glass making up the door is bulletproof. They’re completely unable to touch her.

“Hey, you sadistic bitch, what is it this time?! Come down here, I’ll kill ya!” Zack snarls as the woman looks down at them.

“Oh, my, Zack, how could you speak like that to such a beautiful woman as I? Well, that part of you makes me shiver, too.” Cathy giggles.

“What do we have to do now?” Ray asks as she looks up at her.

“That’s right. Rachel Gardner, what do you think those syringes are for?” Despite being utterly bored by how calmly Ray asks her this, the woman’s tone never once changes.

“…For injecting medication into one’s body?” The moment she replies, a piercing, loud beeping tone resonates through the room.

“Correct, Rachel! Now then, all you have to do is inject yourself with the syringes, and the doors will open! Easy, right?”

“What’s inside the syringes…?” Ray stares at the injections.

“I’ll tell you, Rachel. One has some vitamins, and the other has a dangerous drug. The bad one is quiiiite strong – you’ll have a nightmare, suffer…you might not even wake up.” Cathy presses a finger to her red lips, speaking maliciously as she winks at Zack.

“Haah?! Which one is which?!”

“I won’t tell you, and I forgot anyway. In any case, either one of them could be a ‘win’, and either one of them could be a ‘lose’. If you’re lucky, you get the vitamin. If you’re not, you get the drug. It was supposed to be a test of luck, you know? But, since there are two of you…”

She laughs fearlessly.

“You knew this would happen…” Ray mutters quietly to herself, seeing the woman’s expression.

“Oh, what an unpleasant child. You’re smart, but that’s all. I’ve been watching you, and…you really are just like Zack says. So very boring.”

Cathy looks down upon the girl as an inferior being.

(…Boring…)

It’s different. It’s different when she says it. When Cathy says she’s boring – it makes Ray feel humiliated and uncomfortable.

“Now, then, let’s put an end to this boring conversation. You’re more or less came here together, so I’ll give you a special rule.”

“A special rule…?”

“Yes. You can…exchange the syringes. And…I don’t mind if one of you injects them both. However, make sure not to leave even a single drop of fluid. Dishonesty leads to endless punishment here! And you will never be able to get out.”

A roaring, mocking drumroll blares through the speakers.

“And now, my sinners, I shall pray for your good fortune!” Cathy twirls around along with the drumroll like some sort of musical performer. Then, with a peculiar laugh, she disappears through the door. In the room, only Ray, Zack, and the syringes remain.

“Zack…” Unconsciously, she calls that name as if asking for help.

“Hey, bring the syringe over here. Just do it.” Zack’s voice is irritated as he orders her.

“Okay…” She quickly takes the syringe from the table.

“D’ya know which one of these is the bad one?” he asks as he stares at the two syringes. One has orange liquid, the other contains yellow-green.

“…No.” She shakes her head. She can see the colours, but it tells her nothing of the actual contents.

“Guess not. I can’t, either. But I’m not plannin’ on dyin’ here. I’m not lettin’ that bitch kill me.” His expression is grim.

“…So, should I take both of them?” Ray thinks a bit before giving him her proposal.

“Hah?! Will ya be able t’ wake up?!” Zack’s voice unintentionally grows rougher.

“…No. So does that mean you’ll take them?” she asks without hesitation.

“Ah?! Of course I don’t want to!”

(What is she even thinking…?!)

He can’t follow her trail of thought at all.

“If you don’t want to do it, I will. Though I don’t know what will happen.” Ray’s voice is calm as she speaks. Zack merely looks perplexed. But from Zack’s perspective, she’s not thinking about the consequences of her actions at all. Her statements are selfish.

“So what happens if ya die?”

“What happens?”

“I’m askin’ ya what happens if I die? What happens if you die?!” The anger simmering within him threatens to burst out.

“…Our oath won’t happen… But, that’s…”

Ring.

At that moment, Ray hears – the chime of a bell.

“I don’t know. …I’m sorry, I don’t know.” Her head feels swamped in confusion.

“…Ah, that’s right. Ya want t’ die. I asked ya somethin’ stupid.” Zack’s voice is bitter and mocking.

“…Stupid…” Ray quietly repeats the word.

“It pisses me off, but that bitch is right. We’re just tools to each other. Well…I dunno what it means t’ swear t’ God, but you’ll prolly be satisfied if ya get t’ die either way.”

As he stares at Ray, whose expression hasn’t changed even slightly, he asks her something he’s been wondering about, somewhere in his heart, the entire time.

“Hey, can ya even make a good face if ya think about how much ya wanna die?”

“…” She can’t simply nod her head in response to that question.

She doesn’t know…she doesn’t know. She may have never been able to smile from the very bottom of her heart – ever since she was born.

“…How fuckin’ boring…being some doll’s tool…”

Sighing slightly, the man mutters to himself. Ray has fallen into utter silence.

“But right now, I don’t plan on doin’ what that bitch wants. I have t’ get outta this place. So, I’ll let ya use me.”

His tone become slightly desperate as he reaches through the bars and snatches the syringe from Ray’s hand.

“Wait, that’s mine…” Her eyes widen.

“Shut up. It looks dangerous, but it ain’t poison, right? If I die, that just means ya get t’ die too. So it’s better if I do it.” He smiles fearlessly. It may have been a wise decision in this situation. But Ray can only see it as Zack acting rashly after losing his composure.  And yet, she can’t stop him.

“…Wait.” Though she knows this, she reaches her hand through the bars.

“I’m not gonna wait.”

Zack glances at her. His expression – as if abandoning something, or perhaps having been abandoned – looks as if it hides all the sorrow he has ever experienced in his life until now.

He rolls up his sleeve and stabs both the syringes into his skin. The liquids seep into his body. Before long, the syringes are completely empty, and the next door opens.

“It’s open. Let’s go.” He walks forward calmly. It appears the drugs haven’t taken effect yet.

“Okay…”

Ray stares at his back as if deep in prayer.

▲▽

A hallway stretches out beyond the door. Zack walks at a quick pace, as if to pull Ray along. However, perhaps because of the drugs, the hallway seems to continue forever. He can’t see the end.

(…Shit. Everything’s spinning.)

My head feels like it’s gonna burst open.

He’s also attacked by a terrible vertigo that makes him unable to stand. He can’t help but crouch down on the ground.

(Ugh, what is this…)

White noise streaks his vision, along with an awful sound, like the rain from that night.

And, as if in continuation of that dream, he clearly sees what else had transpired.

▲▽

…This is what happened that day. When I killed the couple at the institution, when I buried the dead kid’s body in the garden. I think he was three years younger than me, but I don’t remember very well.

The first hole I dug, I uncovered what looked like a baby. It had been buried a few weeks ago. It was in my way, so I went to dig a new hole. I don’t know how many kids I buried like this.

And that day, it was raining. It rained all night, a rain so strong it would have been meaningless to even have an umbrella.

Because of that, the muddy dirt was easy to uncover. But the corpse crumbled easily, and it took some time to bury properly. I always did things like this late at night.

There was not even a speck of light. The ground in front of me was pitch-black. And because of the harsh rain, I was soaking wet and covered in mud that day.

I hated the feeling of my bandages being wet. It was disgusting. But I had no spare ones to change to. So my bandages always reeked.

Come to think of it, I hadn’t taken a bath in a long time. I can’t even remember the last time I did. I didn’t care much, but I did think it would be nice to take a bath after burying corpses. I hated the rotten smell on my hands after I touched them. I felt like my hands, and the rest of my body, might rot away too.

(Eugh…)

Nearly overcome by nausea, covered in mud, I returned to the institution.

It was strangely quiet. Peering into the bedroom from the living room, I saw that the couple were already sleep. I felt just a little bit disappointed. After burying bodies, the woman always secretly hid leftovers of food away. She disliked burying bodies so much that she would make sure a monster like me was kept alive. What a selfish bitch.

(I’m hungry…)

I held a hand over my stomach as I searched the room for something to eat – like a fallen bag of chips or something. That day, there wasn’t any. The living room wasn’t especially clean. Probably because no one took the trouble of doing it. Clothes, magazines, and trash were scattered everywhere. They were all the couple’s belongings.

On the shelves were various toys for children, all brand-new, as if put there for decorations. They didn’t appear to be used. And there was no need for toys in a place like that.

After all, there were no more children there. I was – the last – person. But those people were incorrigible. They would likely take more children for money, as well. And, they would be given nothing, die of starvation, and end up getting buried by me.

I was the only one who didn’t die. The couple called me a “monster”. I was called that likely not only because of my creepy appearance, but also because I just didn’t die. Though there were times I stole bags of candy or chips, one time, in intervals of about three weeks, I got leftovers. It took about that long for the new kids to die, too. I guess the couple probably didn’t understand why I didn’t drop dead. Even I didn’t. But it’s annoying to think about that.

(Haah?)

As I emitted a sigh that mixed with the sound of rain outside, I suddenly noticed a faint gleam of something.

(What’s that?)

It was a light from the television in the living room. It was on. Not thinking of anything in particular, I sat down in front of the TV, as if drawn in by the light. It was only on when the couple were up. And most of the time, while they were up, I was crouched down on the floor upstairs, in the storage room. I had heard the TV sometimes, but never seen what was on it.

(The television, huh…)

I became curious about this thing I had never seen before.

But because it was late at night, there was nothing on it. Not really knowing anything about how it worked, I tried pressing one of the buttons. Then, something happened.

It was probably – a bit of an old movie. It was the first time I’d ever seen one.

On the TV, there was a couple – a man and a woman – laughing happily. I had no idea what was supposed to be so funny.

(It’s kind of boring…)

I thought of turning it off. I hated people who looked happy. But at that moment, a grotesque-looking man – his skin slowly peeling off his entire body – appeared before the couple. He looked like a monster. And then, the ugly man turned toward the woman’s boyfriend. Brandishing a hatchet, he stabbed him over and over and over – without an ounce of hesitation. And killed him. Dark reddish blood scattered across the screen. It looked as if it would splatter out onto the ground in front of me.

The woman stared at the ugly man and called him a monster. Her expression was full of despair – as if the happiness she had experienced moments before had been nothing but a lie.

The ugly man mercilessly stabbed the woman in the head. The screen split between the pale face of the dead man, and the face of the ugly man, whose mouth was so wide with laughter it seemed like his face might tear into two. It was an exhilarating scene, one that enthralled me.

Thump, thump.

Thump thump.

Thump thump thump.

I don’t know if my heart had been moving until that moment. But then – then it felt like it wouldn’t ever stop its desperate thrumming.

(…Aah…that’s right…)

And that’s when I finally realised –

…This is what I should do.

(It’s easy…)

I stood up from the floor and wandered into the kitchen. It was swarming with wriggling black insects. I picked up the largest knife I could find, and turned toward the bedroom. The couple’s snoring was absurdly loud.

I didn’t falter for even a moment as I thrust the blade into the man’s neck. When I buried the bodies, their necks always looked so fragile, so I figured that this must be where I would find a human’s weak point. And I stabbed him, because on the movie, the man had died first, too. He let out a groan, and his gaze latched on to me – but he died in less than a minute.

(…Huh.)

As I stared at the man’s dead body, who I now felt no hatred for, or nothing at all, I realised: people die so easily. It’s easy…to kill.

(Why was I holding myself back for so long…?)

“Kyaaah!”

The woman realised something was wrong, and threw herself off the bed, letting out a scream of terror. She attempted to run, but perhaps her legs gave way, and she ended up simply dragging herself backwards along the floor.

“…”

Staring at that comical sight, I lifted my weapon.

The woman stared at me with eyes full of fear – an expression she had never shown me before – as she screamed “monster, you monster!” at me over and over again.

(Monster, huh…)

Honestly, I didn’t like being called that. I hated the scars beneath the bandages – the burn scars that would never fade. There was no way I could possibly like them. But it wasn’t because they made me remember anything. It was simply because I didn’t look human. Because I didn’t like looking like a monster.

But, for some reason, I was a little happy that night, as the woman screeched at me, calling me that name. My chest swelled. No matter what she said, I wouldn’t have to listen to her. Because I would kill her. The only thing that remained was despair.

(It’s okay to be a monster.)

I smiled.

Aah, I’m just like the man in that story. No…that’s wrong. I am him.

I don’t know how much time passed. But the next time I realised what was happening, the woman was dead.

And I was the only one left in the institution. The only thing ringing in my ears was the sound of the hard rain, as if to drive everything else away.

▲▽

His head throbs, as if someone had hit him. He feels sick.

(Aah…I feel like I’m gonna go crazy…)

…I want to kill.

I want to kill. I want to kill.

I want to kill I want to kill I want to kill I wanna kill.

I wanna kill I wanna kill I wanna kill I wanna kill IwannakillIwannakill.

“Please…kill me.”

Ray’s voice reverberates from within him.

As soon as I met her, she asked me to kill her. Thinking about it now, I guess I should have killed her back then. Or, maybe it would have been better to kill her then. I dunno what she’s thinkin’ with that blank face of hers, but I bet she would have been happy to be killed by me. ‘Cause right now, that’s all she thinks about. If she wasn’t, she wouldn’t be working together with me like this.

I don’t know why she wants to die, and I don’t need to, either. After all, to her, I’m nothing more than a tool.

(But if I kill her now, would I be a liar…?)

The more time passes, the more the drugs sink into his system. He has always felt as if he’s been in an awful dream. The raging impulse to kill and the last frays of his sanity fight together.

(Zack looks strange…? The poison really is…)

“Zack, are you okay…?”

Having opened the door, Ray sees Zack crouched on the floor, unmoving, and rushes up to him.

(Stay away – )

Zack calls out in his own mind.

But the moment he perceives the form of the girl who rushes up to him, he becomes entirely enveloped in urges he can’t contain. He’s unable to think of anything asides from his desire to kill.

“…”

He quickly stands, and brandishes the scythe toward Ray. This scythe has brought countless people to despair. And, of course, it can slice through Ray’s dainty neck without a problem.

“…What’s wrong…?”

With the slightest bit of surprise upon her face, she asks him this quietly, seeming to sense something.

“Aah…I dunno if it’s ‘cause of that weird stuff or not…but I wanna kill so bad…that I feel like I’m gonna go crazy!” Zack shouts desperately as he stares into those blue eyes that look as if they see through everything.

(So, just go somewhere, far away – )

He wants to kill someone, anyone – Ray, in front of him – so badly he can hardly stand it.

But the promise he had made with her flickers in his mind.

“When we get outta here together…I’ll kill you.”

Since coming into this world, he had never had anything he especially liked or disliked. It was pointless to think about those things, anyway. But lies – he truly hates lies.

“…I see…I don’t mind.” Ray doesn’t flinch as she replies.

(So damn boring.)

Zack laughs, and hangs his head.

“…That so.”

(She’s boring, but,)

“Ah, that’s right, ya want me t’ kill ya, don’t ya?!”

(I can’t help it – )

He can’t control himself. The scythe shakes as his arms waver.

The sharp blade lightly touches the nape of her neck. It’s cold – almost like water dripping down her skin.

“…But, are you okay with this?” she asks him calmly as that icy sensation seeps into her bones.

“…Hah?!”

“You aren’t outside yet. And…my face is still boring, right?”

Just like her voice, her face is emotionless. She simply, intently gazes up into Zack’s flushed face.

(If ya get it, then)

“Hey…are ya tryin’ t’ threaten me now?!”

(do something – )

He feels absolutely disgusting. He wants to puke.

Even he knows how his hands tremble as they grip the scythe. Every second, he comes closer and closer to simply cutting her head from the rest of her body.

“No. You’re the one who made the promise to God. So, the promise is yours as well. Right now, I’m not ordering anything of you, or asking you to do anything for me. I’m just asking you…Zack, are you okay with this?” Ray’s expression trembles as she feels Zack’s hands shake, the sensation passed through her by the blade of the scythe on her neck. He’s a bit surprised, seeing such an honest expression from her in this insane situation –

“…Are you stupid? …Of course I’m not okay with it.” His answer comes straight from his heart. “But, ya know…no matter how boring yer face is…it’s hard t’ hold myself back. ‘Cause if I could, I wouldn’t be in this situation in the first place…”

Aah…why am I trying to hold myself back so much…?

When I get the urge to kill, I kill. I wanna kill so bad I can hardly stand it, but something inside of me keeps calling out to me, saying I mustn’t kill her.

(‘Cause I can’t get out of here if I do…?)

“A dangerous, mutually selfish wish that only pushes responsibilities upon the other…you both seem to be gaining something from this, but, the two of you are nothing more than tools. Though…which one of you is the real tool, I wonder?”

So, is Ray just a tool to me, too…?

“Your promise is absurdly pointless.”

(Promise…)

Ah…that’s right…I never really made a promise with anyone before. Promises always seemed so irrelevant to me…because I always lived on my own.

(But, ‘cause I’m gonna kill Ray once I get out of here, it might really be a pointless promise after all…)

He turns his gaze away from Ray and takes in a short breath, as if to muster the last of his strength.

“…But, ya know, even I hate lies...” His voice trembles. “Ya get what I mean, right?”

For a moment, it seems like time simply stops flowing between them.

“…Yeah.”

As Zack blinks, Ray sees her own expressionless face reflected back to her, and sees herself nod.

“…Good girl…so…please…”

He gently draws her delicate body closer to him.

“…Don’t let me kill you just yet – ”

And, after whispering into her ear, he softly lets her go.

As if to confirm the promise they’ve made to one another, the two hold one another’s gazes for a moment.

Zack’s expression is more serious than any she’s ever seen on him before.

He hears the rain begin to fall once more. A harsh rain at the dead of night, a rain hard enough to wash everything away.

Between the slits of my bandages, I see that old movie. What had it been called again? Something like…ah, damn it. It was the only movie I’d ever seen. I should have at least remembered the title. But that movie really was the best. It was so exciting.

Thump thump.

Thump thump.

Just thinking about it has my heart thumpin’ in my chest – though I dunno if it normally does that or not.

I want to kill.

I wanna kill so bad, I can’t stand it.

I can’t think about anything else anymore. I don’t want to think.

And, as if something had suddenly broken, Zack’s face becomes utterly blank.

▲▽

I have to run…!

The sight she had seen when she had first met Zack on B6 flickers frightfully clear through her mind.

That time…she had fixed the bird, like she normally would, and buried it.

It was a pity the bird had died, but I was happy.

After all, it could go home to my family. My ideal family…

But that had all been a fleeting dream. Nothing more. All she can remember is the past she doesn’t want to recall.

Ray looks away from Zack, and turns her back to him, as if it pains her to set her eyes upon him.

(…I don’t know anything about Zack yet.)

The words she had read on that profile – something like that is nothing more than something someone else had written. Nothing more.

“…I…hate lies.”

But that is one thing she knows. Her small hands curve into fists.

(I won’t make him a liar…)

Zack sways next to her – and she runs away from him as quickly as she possibly can.

Zack swore to God.

“I’m definitely gonna be the one to do it…!”

I’m sure Zack doesn’t desire to kill me like this. He doesn’t want to kill me while I’m so boring.

Hey, Zack. I can’t be alive. This is what I’ve thought ever since that night.

But, so that I can be killed by you, I want to be useful to you.

And, I promised. I promised to make a good face that would make you want to kill me.

So…for now, I can’t let Zack kill me…!

Zack chases her as the rain relentlessly pounds in his ears.

(I wanna kill, I wanna kill – )

He can’t hear anything anymore. He doesn’t know anything. He doesn’t know if this is reality, or a dream. He doesn’t know if he’s an adult, or a child. He can’t think about anything anymore. He just wants to kill. It doesn’t matter who.

In the midst of the white noise of his mind, for some reason, the faces of the children who had been buried at the institution flash by, one after another. Ghosts don’t exist in this world. That’s common sense. But, like an awfully clear movie, the faces of dead children flicker across his vision. They don’t look at him with hatred, and they don’t ask for help. They simply stare at him with dead eyes. And they tell him, “I didn’t want to go to a place like this.”

(I don’t care. That’s disgusting.)

He lurches after the girl with unsteady steps. Despite feeling terribly nauseous, he’s still tremendously fast.

(He’ll catch up to me…)

“Haah, haah…”

She can sense him approaching her.

Gasping for air, she rushes down the maze-like corridor.

(I can’t…breathe…)

She has surely never run for someone else like this before.

But she doesn’t have the leisure to think about something like that. She simply runs desperately. If she stops for even a second, she’ll be killed. To tell the truth, it doesn’t matter to her when she’s killed. She wants to be killed before Zack finds out everything.

(…?)

She’s suddenly aware that she can no longer sense Zack behind her. For an instant, she turns to look. It’s clear that his running speed has lessened.

(The poison…)

In her mind, she sees Zack, stabbing himself with the syringes.

(He even took my syringe…)

“If I die, that just means ya get t’ die too. So it’s better if I do it.”

That was…what Zack did to make sure they could get out together. That’s what Ray believes.

(Right now, all I can do is not let him kill me…)

That’s all.

She can’t see the end of the hall because of how gloomy it is. She doesn’t know where it goes – but she runs down it anyway, and forgets about everything else. She runs, further and further – and finally escapes that long hallway. Her vision explodes in white.

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[millimallow]

pt 3 - the hills are alive with light

thank you to everyone who’s followed me recently for my mitski edits! i’m really glad you’re here. i post other stuff as well, though more mitski stuff will be coming. this is pt 3 of my fantasy anthology series based on the setting for my dnd series, and it takes place in the mountainous high shires. please enjoy, leave a like, reblog, w/e!

“are you sure that this’ll work?”

“i’m not sure of anything, but i don’t think it’s a waste of our time to try. so let’s try.”

my name is shenahra asramh. i would have a long, hard time explaining how i got into this situation, so let’s cut to the chase- me and my cousin/on-and-off criminal conspirator tusol are on the run. our efforts in smuggling bootleg wines from the pinnacle vineyards up through the trevailian ports was evidently unappreciated by the inspecting dock warden, his greying moustache curling up at the corners like a drying fern. and though tusol tried to bargain for our safe passage, i knew that it was over, over unless we ran. so that’s what we’ve been doing for the past few days. running. well, not constantly, and not in the most literal sense of running. but trying to get somewhere out of the way enough that nobody could think to look for us there. so much for the great income we would receive for our efforts hefting bottles of red in burlap backpacks under the guise of gifts for relatives, then hawking them to tourists on the streets.

in fact, so much for my dignity.

our most obvious route from the port city was to be the one which took us the furthest away from high concentrations of people. people who might recognize us. away as well from notable border checks. we had identification, but only the goddess of mercy could save us if we were to be found. this took us through the plainslands, from where we headed south-west to the border with the high shires. it was out inevitable destination, but in one of his many lectures tusol turned to me and instructed- “the north-west border is a touchy place. we might escape, only to be killed by some raving dwarf with a tattoo on his skull.” i doubted he had ever even met a member of the sarmot fir, but i did not trust the state of conflict there myself, so we went south, cutting time by sneaking into the cargo holders of several trains which bought us only a few miles’ trek from the official border station. as fitting for an area as sparse as the plainslands, the trains were few and far between, though timely when they came. standing on the loosely defined gravel platform, i was able to look into tusol’s eyes for the first time since our near-capture and ask him a question.

“what are we going to do when we get to the shires?”

“live out of a cave.” i was astonished at the answer.

“we’ve never lived outside of anything other than a normal clay home. how can that possibly be your solution?” i cried, but tusol only smirked in response.

“it’s only until the heat dies down. when something bigger than a few petty bootleggers comes up we will be forgotten about. that, or until we meet some hot mountain chick.” i turned away to end the line of inquiry, not knowing how serious his statement was.

it was not a serious journey from our final station to the border crossing, from which we would travel on foot. the guard, a halfling whose seat prevented any eye contact, was apathetic about our entry. the latter trail was what made me more nervous. if the plainslands is vast and windswept, the high shires is the pressure point of where a great god once cracked the earth open long before any human, halfling or elf. its ridges are mind-numbingly steep, conditions scorching hot and exposed in places while completely frigid elsewhere. the people who live there do so very carefully and with thousands of years of experience. initially it was not the worst- tusol’s frequent attempts to eat certainly-poisonous berries were easily thwarted- but hours in a great desperation overcame me. i could not go further without filling my hand wounds with dirt, as all our greatly limited supply of bandages had been expended on an unfortunate wild dog bite tusol sustained. and as such, when the moon became full and heady over us, i requested that we camp for the night.

“nonsense. why camp in the wild where we can get mauled by anyone or anything that passes us by? it’s not like we have tents.”

“you’ve already been mauled. i’m doing better than you on the mauling front.”

“well, there was the time aunt irtha’s birdhound bit your knee at the house.” it was true- the marks were still there. but i was eleven, and the dog was only the size of a housecat.

“so we’ll walk through the night?” i replied tartly.

“no, we’ll camp indoors. have a look over there.” he pointed towards the horizon, down one of the gentler mossy slopes we had encountered so far.

“i can’t see anything”.

tusol laughed in response. “that’s because you have the eyesight of a bat on a good day with glasses on. there are lights over there, and lights means people.” perhaps it meant fireflies, i thought, but i wasn’t about to get smart with him when we needed rest. i didn’t suggest the people could be bandits, either, on several grounds: bandits pick common paths, that our situation could hardly get worse and that tusol wasn’t likely to listen. what did i do? i picked up my pace and followed him, resigned to meet what was on the other side of that light. and it’s from there i’m writing this now.

i mentioned previously that people who live in this environment have to live clever, and it proves true. the light source we stumbled upon- an amalgamation of firey torches and buzzing electric lights- was only the front of what i could only just make out to be a village carved into the side of the mountain. tusol had knocked on the door before i could suggest otherwise. only a few seconds could pass before the small door was opened by a gnome, tawny skinned and grey haired with a distinct element of pallour, who then emerged.

“what is your business at this time of day?”

“we’ve been travelling. and we’re looking to board for the night.” the gnome looked up and down tusol as i winced at his confidence internally- we had kept little money on us to avoid customs troubles, and there was no way he didn’t know this. after a solid look-over he pointed inwards.

“come with me. and whoever that is.” i hurried to tusol’s behind and followed as quickly and unobtrusively as i could, but the gnomish occupants took note of two humans regardless. the cramped feeling of the structure was alien and uncomfortable, its roofs low and twists many, but we eventually reached a much greater room with a higher ceiling. before we could sigh in relief, we noticed a gnomish woman on a grand throne of oak and gold thread drapings, face as cold and metallic as the jewellery which adorned her face.

“why do you bring these outsiders here, callatar amsai?” she asked, her voice still.

“they came to ask for boarding.” his head was bowed- the impression of her power was undeniable despite her youth.

“why must we entertain them?”

“there is no obligation.”

she paused. “state your names, travellers.”

“tusol.”

“shenahra.”

“where do you come from?” i let tusol speak, though i was afraid he would easily let his tongue run away with him.

“trevailia, ma’am.” her expression betrayed her disinterest. “we have been through talgene mer and the plainslands for our visit.”

“its purpose being?”

“…sightseeing.” and it was turning sour.

“what do you do that compels you to sightsee here?” tusol could not answer. he would not admit it, but his path in life was that of a petty crook. my heart bundled into my throat, i spoke for him.

“i’m a writer.”

“you are?” it was not untrue- i figured it gave me a better chance than otherwise. “and you came here to write?”

“indeed.” after a moment, she stepped down from her throne, long dark hair trailing behind her as she walked.

“my name is heani klattisvula.” she held her hand out to me and i took it into mine, feeling its small size and its warmth. “can you write something for me and my people?”

and so i have.

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