Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/8796040.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      F/F, F/M
  Fandom:
      Kuroshitsuji_|_Black_Butler
  Relationship:
      Undertaker_(Kuroshitsuji)/Original_Female_Character(s), one-sided_William
      T._Spears/Original_Female_Character_(non-con), Original_Female_Character/
      Original_Female_Character, Original_Female_Character(s)/Original_Male
      Character(s), Grell_Sutcliff_&_Original_Female_Character(s)
  Character:
      Undertaker_(Kuroshitsuji), William_T._Spears, Grell_Sutcliff, Original
      Female_Character(s), Original_Male_Character(s)
  Additional Tags:
      Destruction, Kidnapping, Sexual_Abuse, Unethical_Experimentation, S&M,
      Yuri, Unrequited_Love, Memory_Loss, Memory_Alteration, Alternate_Universe
      -_Dark, Dreams_vs._Reality, Lucid_Dreaming, Empath, Rarity_-_Freeform,
      denial_of_affection, Self-Denial, Self_Resurrection, Descent_into
      Madness, Fate, wrath_-_Freeform, vengeance, Reapers, Suicide, Mind
      Control, Objectification, Emotional/Psychological_Abuse, Romance,
      Fictional_Religion_&_Theology, Guilt, Eugenics, Blood_and_Gore,
      Dismemberment, I_REGRET_NOTHING, Attempted_Murder, Hatred, Out_of
      Character_William_T._Spears, Psychokenisis, Necrophilia, Rape, mention_of
      gang_rape, Tattoos, Death_Threats, Piercing_Ritual, Prophecy, Against
      One's_Nature, Dual_Consciousness, Submission, Trichophilia, Medical
      Torture, Erotica, Betrayal, Experimental_Drugs, Reaper_Drama
  Series:
      Part 4 of Unnecessary_Shadows
  Stats:
      Published: 2016-12-09 Completed: 2017-11-29 Chapters: 23/23 Words: 61153
****** Unnecessary Object ******
by Deadly_Night_Sh1ft_(CrookedMath)
Summary
     A Conduit's tragic life story plays before the legendary reaper's
     eyes and not everything is as it seems. Undertaker discovers the real
     reason behind a certain person's hatred for his lady love. Much more
     comes to light that she never disclosed to him, including a link with
     someone he's known for centuries. He wonders if her memories were
     truly erased or if they were buried lies by omission, but his
     singular, fanatical devotion has carried on this far. However, after
     he sees her Cinematic Record in whole, how will he see her?
     ***REQUIRED READING: Unnecessary Shadows (Part 1). You will need it
     for context, and this picks up where it leaves off.***
     ***DISCLAIMER*** I do not own Kuroshitsuji or its characters. That
     honor goes to Yana Toboso
Notes
     Undertaker's innermost thoughts *
     I'm back after a million years. I hope you enjoy the prelude into
     darkness. Thanks for reading.
     Lovely is Undertaker's pet name for January/Stella and will be used
     as a proper noun as necessary.
***** Love *****
A lifeless gray fog replaced the vibrant glow he was used to seeing each day.
The enchanting lights emanating from large, exotic, lupine eyes that drew him
in were extinguished. She gave herself up so that he might live. He still
couldn't wrap his head around her logic. Was it an altruistic suicide or did
she still see herself as an object? The final words recited in her native
language were so obscure that he couldn't find any commonality between his own
dead language and her commonly used phrases. It was nothing like he heard in
her daily prayers. Perhaps it was as she and the albino Prophetess had said: It
was her destiny to die.
A knot of disgust formed in the pit of his stomach as he watched the secrets of
her past unveil before him on unnecessarily silver film reels. He didn't need
glasses, let alone eyes, to see that his Perfect Beauty was being unnecessarily
objectified throughout her short life. He knew the other man was in the room
with him, clearly satisfied that she was dead, however, no move was made to
prevent her from being reaped. He sensed the building unease from the younger
male as he continued to study her records, and if he wasn't so distraught, he'd
laugh at the stoic brute.
He stared blankly at her lifeless form, a small smile on his face with random
thoughts racing in his head as he pretended her smiling face still held life
within it. Records be damned! He let his mind drift, just this once.
                                    xxxxxx
*It is plainly obvious what I am. Lately, I'd rather think of myself as a
humble mortician who happens to love his job a bit too much. One thing that has
remained a constant in my long existence is loneliness. I live and breathe
amusement to escape it. Then, my Lovely came along and I no longer felt the
overwhelming empty feeling that is loneliness.
Her delicate touches; her peculiar, glowing eyes; her obsession and power; her
hunger, insatiable to the point of gluttony are but a tiny fraction of the
things I love about her. In fact, I couldn't begin to list all the little
things I adore about her. The End would come and go a thousand fold and I still
wouldn't be finished. Gods! I love the way her body responds to my touch! With
me, she knows she's not an object. With me, she knows she's beautiful. With me,
she knows she's wanted. With me, she found love in Death.
With her, I found the One that Fate had in store for me and I won't let her go.
Anything my Lovely needs, I will provide. Anything my Lovely wants, I will
give. Anything my Lovely wishes, I will do.
I am Death and only I can tell her when she can die.*
                                    xxxxxx
The man in the torn business suit didn't dare move. He could tell by the silver
haired man's posture that if he did, he wouldn't live to tell about it. How the
older man could see what was playing on that thing's Cinematic Records was
beyond him. Then again, this was Legendary Death, so anything was possible.
After all, the man could make a mangled corpse look as though it had never met
with any harm. The stoic reaper both greatly admired and feared the legend. If
he could easily wipe out so many others and take himself and Gaines on with
hardly a scratch on him without the aid of spectacles, it only stood as a
testament to his power. The younger reaper internally shivered thinking about
other ways Legendary Death's power could be wielded.
The battered man wouldn't openly admit it, but his idol was right, he did have
more of a problem with that abomination than he did with Rarities in general.
His reasons for hating the dead eyed abomination ran deeper than his former
mentor falling for that thing's flattery or simply blaming it for his desertion
(although those are factors). No, it was the pain of decades old unrequited
love. The cold eyed manager knew from day one the silver reaper would never
love him, but like the redhead did at one time, he still couldn't help but hold
out hope that one day it would be returned. Now, decades later, he knows better
than to hold out foolish hopes, but he still can't help but love the legend
just the same. And so, there he stood watching him watching that.
 
"So it seems you have more than just a problem with my Lovely, Mr. Spears," a
legendary, dark voice full of wrath from the silver haired man stated calmly
and evenly as he observed the petite's Cinematic Records. The silver reaper may
have been reviewing her records at a snail's pace, but that didn't mean he was
going to let his guard down in case he had to fight for his life and the
Rarity's records (and corpse).
*No one takes what's mine.*
"Nothing to say, hm, Willikins?" the mortician mocked without looking up.
The other man remained stock still and silent, stewing in a broth of his own
mixed emotions. He still loved the legend, but the more he saw him loving that,
it gradually turned to hate. But, because he loved him, he was torn between
acting aggressively at his taunting insults or just standing there and taking
it in stride like he was doing at this very moment. As his feelings were caught
in the middle, so was his response. "I already gave you my answer, sir." The
injured man turned to begin his hasty exit from the library, but was quickly
stopped without the mortician having to leave the lavender Rarity's side.
"I wouldn't leave if I were you, Spears. Hehehe," the madman warned in a
singsong voice. "Hehehe. I know something quite damning about yoooooouuuu." The
mad reaper cackled, peeking over his shoulder at the bloodied manager with a
sadistic grin that sent shockwaves of fear through his former student. "Hmmm,
since a corpse has got your tongue, maaayyyybe my Lovely's record will give me
the answers I need. So damned you are, Spears. So damned you are. Ehehehe!" His
eyes flashed electric green malice at the stoic reaper as he spoke the cryptic
warning.
That grin. That maddening, fearsome grin spreading across the lips of the
scarred visage of the legend himself was enough to scare anyone into
submission. That grin on that scarred face on the legendary reaper completely
insane from the loss of the One he loved, the One he was devoted to, his mate,
was enough to turn the onlooker into proverbial stone like the victim of a
metaphorical Medusa. The younger man knew very well how possessive the elder
was, but had no idea his possessive nature would carry over this far. The
battered reaper heard that the ancients go mad as they age, but he was
different; he was created, not a recycled suicide. The short haired manager
wondered if the beautiful legend had always been insane but was too blinded by
his love for him to realize it. Perhaps the silver reaper's constant loneliness
drove him mad, or perhaps his hopeless romanticism and undying devotion to that
carcass he calls a mate was the culprit.
That look. That face. The manager submitted to Legendary Death partially out of
fear for his life and livelihood, but most of all for vengeance.
***** Home *****
Chapter Notes
     Yay! New inner monologues!
     ~ January/Stella's innermost thoughts
     * Undertaker's innermost thoughts
     ^ Mae's innermost thoughts
     # William T. Spears' innermost thoughts
     Thanks for reading and kudos. Much appreciated. We dive deeper into
     the rabbit hole of our protagonist's mind.
     Enjoy.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
The men in suits came that day and destroyed her world with strange weapons.
Even the power of the temple priestesses could not ward off the bespectacled
men in their overwhelming numbers. Their weapons were a thing to be feared as
they could cut through anything and steal one's soul from the Goddess. The
quiet men-the harbingers of death and destruction-razed the holy places of her
desert realm, taking nearly every life in the process. In the midst of the
chaos, the child Rarities hid within the ruins of the destroyed temple, eyes
squeezed shut, blocking the ever present glow from view. In a moment of panic,
two of the youngest girls were separated from their Sisters in the Goddess,
quickly finding refuge beneath the corpses of a priestess and a suited man;
both of whom had been dispatched by his weapon, binding them together like
twisted lovers. The tiny girls didn't dare move or open their glowing eyes for
fear of facing certain death.
Two tiny Rarities felt the weight of the dead being lifted off their backs and
an ancient, foreboding presence hovering over them. The jet beads of the elder
Rarity's choker softly rattled within the long red plumes covering her chest as
she trembled in terror. The younger clutched her friend for dear life, her red
leather chest piece creaking as her friend in feathers squeezed back. Neither
girl paid any mind to the blood soaking through their gauzy black skirts and
disheveled head dresses, nor did they care that their little bare feet were
virtually cut to strips. Their temple was destroyed, the only family they had
known in their short lives were massacred before their eyes, the sacred animals
slaughtered, and their world obliterated-a virtual genocide. For what purpose?
What sin had they committed?
Still, the foreboding presence did not leave. Instead, it remained constant,
waiting for them to make the first move. After a few terrifying moments passed
by, the younger Rarity lifted her little head full of thick, green waves and
stared up at the ancient presence with fear and awe sparkling in round,
mismatched blue and green eyes. The other made no move against her, so she
gently nudged her friend, signalling it was ok to look. Cautiously, the older
Rarity raised her head, lavender hair falling away from her pale face and
looked up at the foreboding man. Her large, lupine eyes full of innocence,
brimmed with terrified tears. Both tiny girls possessed the same ever present
illuminated eyes that all Empaths have, and both possessed the same dual colors
of all Rarities.
"What strange eyes," the foreboding man mused to himself. "Fair hair 'n strange
eyes."
The girls looked bemused at the leather clad man's self musings in his thick
British accent as it was a stark contrast to the way he looked and carried
himself. The foreboding man clad in head to toe black leather with a long, dark
braid and circular, wire frame glasses, dozens of piercings taking up both
ears, and a single loop to the left side of his bottom lip was the face of
certain death. His obsidian Death Scythe was a nightmarish thing, something
apocalyptic in nature, and best left interpreted to each individual. Some
described it as multi faceted, others as one of a kind, but indeed, it was
neither of these things. It was merely a basic scythe to its wielder, but a
manifestation of the fears of the dying-their worst nightmares brought to them
by a sadistic "deer in the headlights" method of reaping. But like all the
ancients, the Reaper of Nightmares had his secret soft spot, and he let his
show as he made no move worth causing the girls to fear him.
"Are you like the men in suits with strange weapons?" the older girl meekly
asked in broken English.
"I'ma reaper," the dark man confirmed as he banished his scythe. "But no'
exactly like 'em min'less suits."
"A-are you going to kill us?" the tiny, lavender Rarity squeaked out. As she
blinked, tears fell from her frightened, glowing eyes, hitting the nightmarish
reaper's soft spot for crying little girls.
He knelt down in front of the girl and wiped her tears. "No, I don't harm lil'
ones. Goes 'gainst me morals. C'mon, I'ma getcha two lil' lovlies outta here.
There's no reason fer such pretty lil' ladies t'be frightened anymore."
"Do you promise?" the little Rarity asked with pleading eyes.
"I'swear it," the reaper reassured, looking the lavender haired girl dead in
the eye. She flinched as he reached out and tucked stray hair into her head
dress. "Yes, such strange eyes," he whispered softly. "So rare n' so
beautiful."
                                    xxxxxx
Jealousy and contempt glared out from behind steel frame glasses of the pruner
wielding trainee as he watched the tiny lavender haired girl thrust her little
fingers into his idol's long, silver ponytail. He could never get close to him,
not like that. He'd already reminded the legend about the orders from upper
management only to be harshly reprimanded. Then, he received a fierce tongue
lashing on the morality of his wanting to kill the "innocent little girl" in
the leather clad reaper's arm as well as her little friend hiding behind his
leather bound legs. Since when did Legendary Death give a shit about the
welfare of children? That was the realm of the Reaper of Nightmares, not his.
The young reaper got his answer when the little girl spewed out her flattery at
the silver haired legend. He always fell for such flattery, but when he did it,
the silver haired man always spurned him with a hard glare in his
phosphorescent eyes; eyes the young reaper wished to see up close and personal.
The stoic junior stood silently, observing all that transpired between his two
superiors with the seeds of hatred germinating in his heart. The Rarity's high
pitched voice made his teeth clench and grind against each other, especially
because that ridiculous voice of hers addressed the object of his adoration,
thereby, taking his attention away from him.
"You're pretty and your hair is soft. It looks like moonbeams," the lavender
Rarity beamed at the legendary reaper. "He's the 'pretty one.' Right, Mae-Mae?"
Her green haired friend nodded vigorously in agreement and hid behind the dark
reaper's leather bound leg again.
^I like the 'pretty one's' boots, but I like this one's entire outfit better.^
~That's because he has on leather. You like it. You're nuzzling. You're not
hiding.~
^No. Both. I don't like the one in the suit. He's scary.^
~He's a blasphemer with his short hair. He stepped on Holy ground. He wants to
kill us.~
^I saw, too.^
The towering silver reaper reached down and gently brushed his gloved fingers
over the tiny girl's cheek. "Such peculiar eyes befitting of a lovely, peculiar
girl." The reaper with the half frame glasses smoothly removed his hand from
the tiny girl's face and forced a smile. "Both of you little ladies are
lovely," he complimented, eliciting excited, mismatched glows from both girls.
*Fate.*
The little lavender Rarity's light in her eyes dimmed slightly when she caught
a glimpse of disgust staring at her from the young man in the suit. Her girly
giggling ceased and her smile vanished. The man with the pruning shears
adjusted his glasses as his eyebrow twitched while fighting his lip from
curling into a vicious snarl. The scared little girl buried her face in the
dark reaper's neck, increasing her hold on him for fear that he might surrender
her to the blasphemous suit's "mercy." The nightmarish reaper rubbed her back,
soothing her fear away as he discussed future plans with the "pretty one." The
green haired girl remained hidden behind their protector's leather clad legs,
lost in her own leather world, and thankfully being spared the misfortune of
the hateful gaze of the man in the suit with the strange weapon.
"Some'll call ya a deserter, Crevan," the apocalyptic reaper warned.
"Jones, I don't care. Let them see me how they wish. I've had enough of this
lifestyle. I was going to retire anyway, but then this..." The silver haired
man gestured bitterly with an outstretched arm to the Rarities' burning realm.
He narrowed his acidic eyes at the heaps of corpses littering the desert
landscape. "Call everyone back, we're done for the day, and I'm done. Period."
*This devastation for the sake of what? And we dare call ourselves gods...*
The silver reaper sighed heavily and turned to his friend and subordinate.
"Marcus, I highly doubt you'll be able to find their parents. If anything,
they're probably dead. Judging by the looks on their faces, I doubt they even
know who they are. Just remember, from one friend to another, protect them to
the best of your abilities."
"Crevan, I've ev'ry reason in th' universe t'protect th' lil' ones. They remind
me o' th' woman I love. I couldna bear t'hurt 'em," the other solemnly replied.
"I see." The silver legend's lips curled into a knowing grin. His long, black
trench coat flared out as he squatted down to look at the green Rarity. "Hello
there, pretty one," he greeted with a smile. "Do you think I'm pretty, too,
hm?"
The girl blushed and nodded. "But he piddier," the three year old said shyly,
squeezing the dark reaper's leg. "He have on...he have..." She began to cry
from frustration due to the language barrier between her and the legend.
"Leather?" the silver haired man guessed, earning a slow nod in response.
"Here, take these." He handed his black leather gloves to the green Rarity and
kissed her on the forehead. He rose to his full height and looked down at the
tiny, lavender haired Rarity hiding her face in the crook of his friend's neck.
With a bit of effort, he finally got the girl to look at him.
~Oh, my Goddess! The 'pretty one' has the most beautiful eyes.~
The reaper's soft fingertip skimmed the little Rarity's hairless brow. "You are
a peculiar one, aren't you, my little lovely one? Such a strange, innocent
light in your eyes. I'm sure one day Fate will bring us together again,
Lovely."
The young reaper's fist clenched tight around the pole of his Death Scythe as
he watched the little girl's eyes light up again at whatever sweet words the
legend was whispering in her ear. It was obviously pleasing to her because she
kissed him on the cheek, narrowly missing the corner of his smiling lips.
What's worse is that he let her do it!
"Goodbye, Jones. Take care of those lovelies," the legend bid.
"Oi, g'bye, Crevan," the dark reaper returned.
The legend turned and glared at his now former student. "Keep your wits about
you, Spears," he sternly advised, tapping his temple as a grin curled over his
lips. "Don't be so goddamn stiff all the time and you'll go on to do great
things." He turned his back on the young agent, but didn't leave just yet. He
wanted to say a final goodbye to the little Rarities before he left the ranks
for good. A pang of jealousy hit the young man when his idol ruffled green
waves and earned a flushed, giggling three year old's bright, glowing eyes
peering up at him in response. The jealous pang turned to outright contempt
when he kissed the lavender haired girl on the cheek, eliciting a strange glow
from even stranger eyes. Then, the legendary reaper turned around, his long,
black trench coat flaring out behind him in a wave of darkness, and deserted
Dispatch-deserted him, William T. Spears-for his own personal reasons, and all
he got were his elegant, silver, half frame glasses.
"No, Adrian Crevan, I know why you left me," the young reaper grumbled to
himself as he glared at the lavender haired girl joyfully swatting the dark
reaper's face with the tip of his long, dark braid. "That thing's ill begotten
flattery." He clutched the legendary glasses gently to his chest with vengeance
in his eyes. His eyebrow twitched in irritation as his leather glove made that
awful creaking noise when he strangled his pruning shears. Somehow, the young
man in the suit knew that infernal noise would haunt him from now on into the
future all because of that girl
#That abomination.#
that took away his silver beauty and left him with only his glasses as a
memento. A memento he would treasure. Always.
Chapter End Notes
     Hopefully, you've read part 1. Because, context.
***** Fury *****
Chapter Notes
     January/Stella's innermost thoughts ~
     William T. Spears' innermost thoughts #
     the Yurei/Ikiryo's innermost thoughts/communication =
     Thanks for kudos and reading the small portion of my story uploaded
     thus far. It's very much appreciated. *smile*
     Now we dive deeper into darkness. Prepare yourselves for wickedness.
     Hopefully, you read part 1 for context.
     This chapter contains violence against a child (please remember the
     context of the story... evil science experiment) and mention of
     implied sexual abuse. ***You have been warned.***
     Enjoy.
Fear and fury. An unforgettable expression on the dark reaper's face as the
Rarities were forced to watch the stoic reaper mercilessly drive the
apocalyptic Death Scythe through its owner's throat. The psychokinetic powers
of glowing blue eyes pinned the foreboding ancient to the wall with bone
crushing pressure. The pair of tiny, weeping girls shrieked with fear shining
in mismatched eyes when their guardian's blood soaked Death Scythe fell to the
floor. Under orders from a dark haired Empath, the reaper in the business suit
vanquished the Reaper of Nightmares cleanly, cruelly, and efficiently. The
cold, calculated precision in which he drove his pruners though the dead
reaper's chest would forever impale the series of events into their memories.
Golden green eyes glared at the fallen reaper's Cinematic Records as they
approached the latter part of his life. "Traitor," the emotionless reaper
muttered under his breath once collection was complete.
Hateful eyes glared at the weeping Rarities as the irate man with the strange
weapon awaited orders from his superior; an imposing reaper with a long, black
ponytail perched high on his head, sinister chartreuse eyes glaring from behind
gold, oval frame glasses, and delicate chains connecting loops from the top to
the bottom of each ear. He was a slightly shorter and a bit more muscular copy
of Legendary Death. The stoic man's eyebrow impatiently twitched as he waited
for his boss' next move.
#Get rid of them while you can. We don't need those two, especially that.#
The stone faced man shot the lavender Rarity a resentful snarl that could only
be caught by a high speed camera.
"No wonder Crevan and Jones liked you so much," the ponytailed reaper said with
smug mockery. "You've got strange eyes." The reaper laughed and poked her nose.
"Much too big for your little head. Shit! You are pretty, though. Yes, strange
eyes and a pretty face. And you," he turned his attention to the younger girl.
"I smell a friend dressed in leather. I like you." The older reaper rose to his
full height. "These things may prove useful for my needs. Take them," he
gruffly ordered the Empaths standing guard. "Spears, you did well today. I
think a promotion may be in order for you soon enough, but first," The imposing
reaper paused, holding up his index finger with a sinister glint in chartreuse
eyes. "I want to see how well you do working with me before I make that
decision."
The uptight reaper raised a questioning eyebrow. "Sir?"
"You heard me, Spears. Let's get the fuck out of here. It smells like
traitorous shit." The reaper with the long, black ponytail sneered at his
fallen comrade's corpse. "Fuck you, Jones, I win, you dumbfuck."
                                    xxxxxx
Fear and fury. She was the face of fear and he the face of fury. The green
haired Rarity usually went ignored by the man with the pruning shears. In his
worst moods, she'd get a dark scowl, however, the same couldn't be said for her
lavender haired friend. His fury was reserved especially for her. Dark looks
were the least of lavender worries now that he had the fair haired child in his
realm without a protector, and no one would be aware that he could exact his
unnecessary revenge upon her. For now, however, the clean cut reaper sat back
and watched as others of her kind meted out their cruel experiments on the
little Rarity.
Week after week the experiments dragged on. Week after week that damn black
eyed corpse stared him down as he stared the lavender thing down. The
shrieking, screaming, crying, cursing, furious child, begging not to be
experimented on anymore; begging for her solace, her nonexistent sources of
comfort. The stoic man's eyebrow twitched with pent up rage as she screamed for
Marcus and Mae. A flash of anger lit up his golden green eyes as he extended
his pruners, pinning the wildly thrashing ten year old to the examination
table, thereby allowing the eugenicists to finish restraining her. "Honestly,"
he grumbled under his breath. He retracted his pruners and exited the lab with
great haste.
Today, the normally stoic reaper felt a small tingle of fear softly caress his
spine. The corpse's aimless black eyes weren't so aimless after all.
#Don't tell me Yurei have a sense of morality as well unless that abomination
managed to flatter it too.#
The cold reaper clenched his jaw in hidden fury as he squeezed his gloved hand
over the pole of his odd Death Scythe, the creaking sound irritating him to no
end. The image of haunting obsidian pits stalking him like prey from within a
rotting corpse housed in a hermetically sealed glass cage bored into his memory
like a parasite into its host. The rank and file reaper clocked in for his
regular shift and phased out into the mortal realm to begin collections.
"Honestly, they want to merge those two things together?" the reaper
rhetorically asked himself as he effortlessly plunged the business end of his
pruning shears into a dying man in an alley from a rooftop above. "Good grief,
I still don't know why Gaines is so taken with that thing's eyes! Jones was,
everyone is, and especially Crevan! Why? They're just oversized, mismatched,
misshapen, light up toys. None of her kind have any eyebrows, which makes that
abomination look even freakier!" The clean cut reaper continued his
uncharacteristic rant as he collected and documented the dead man's record. "It
makes that trash heap, Sutcliff, look normal by comparison. Honestly!" With the
angry rant out of his system, the pruner wielder reapplied his stony mask and
moved on to his next collection site. He gripped the pole of his Death Scythe
with hidden fury as a seedling of hatred sprouted from within his soiled heart.
                                    xxxxxx
The pruner wielding reaper glared at the lavender Rarity restrained completely
from head to toe with condescending repulsion and burning rage displayed in
double irises of gold and green. He glanced at the useless corpse housing the
formless creature with equal parts repulsion, however, his rage was replaced by
subtle fear and smoldering hatred. The reaper internally shuddered and turned
his dark glare back to the girl with the hair thin needles occupying the inner
corners of her eyes. She spoke in inaudible gibberish as tears flowed in
furious streams down her face.
#I hope this experiment destroys you.#
Mismatched eyes trained themselves on the stone faced man, fury overshadowing
the innocence within wavering lights. "The Goddess will have Her vengeance."
The lavender girl's eyes dulled and she went back to praying inaudibly in her
native language until the sedatives fully took effect.
"You are nothing," the infuriated reaper growled lowly into the sedated
Rarity's ear.
Machines whirred to life, signalling the start of the eugenics project. Two
blue eyed eugenicists strolled into the lab wearing twisted grins and hungry
eyes. "Oh, Mr. Spears, I had no idea you were interested in watching," the dark
haired Empath drawled in a wheezy voice. "Why don't you have a seat and enjoy
the show. Glass, let us begin." Both blue eyed men giggled, sky blue eyes
glowing brightly as they did so.
The blond obeyed with excited, sadistic cheer, which the stern reaper found
disturbing. The enthusiasm was unnecessary, but the intent was all that
mattered, so he remained seated and silent while the pair began their grand
experiment.
                                    xxxxxx
~The Formless One within the Unwilling Host shares the same fate as I? Why must
my own kindred harm me? How have I wronged them? What sin have I committed? How
many times have I been defiled since I've arrived here? My Innocence is lost
and now my self will be too. Oh Goddess! How have I wronged you?~
A high pitched shriek of agonizing pain echoed within the sterile, white walls
of the lab as the searing heat of the eugenics project began. Another flaming
hot jolt of pain flooded the lavender haired Rarity's senses. Tears of blood
flowed from inner corners of large, lupine eyes jammed with hair thin needles
as the fusion began. A final, cruel jolt of hellfire invaded her mind, lighting
up her eyes like bright stars against briefly passing darkness as her
consciousness tried merging with the Ikiryo-what her people call the Formless
One-while more crimson rivers stained pallid cheeks. The girl eventually passed
out from the intense, burning pain from the fusion just as her consciousness
gave up its attempt to merge with the new one introduced to her.
"This one shall be the prototype," the black haired Empath announced. "She is
no longer 'Stella.' Her code name is 'January'. She is going to be the ultimate
weapon, an object capable of mass destruction." The male wheezed out a maniacal
laugh. "Mark her, Glass."
                                    xxxxxx
=I will not let our conscious minds merge. We will coexist independently. She
is she. I am me. We are one weapon. Code name: January.=
                                    xxxxxx
The weapon awakened alone and furious on the dawn of her eleventh year. A
tattoo was under wraps on the small of her back; a permanent reminder of
yesterday's agony.
~I'm not a woman yet. This is sacrilege.~
She slowly ambled to the mirror and removed the bandage. Ice skeletons in the
pattern of the Danse Macabre lining the small of her back represented the
season of her code name and the cold cruelty she is now capable of on a massive
scale. Furious tears flowed down her face like a burst floodgate as the death
of her guardian sprung to mind. Unnecessary evil plagued her for the entirety
of her short life except for the brief respite she and her green haired friend
found with an ancient nightmare.
~I want to go home. I want Mae. I want Marcus. I want to see the 'pretty one'
again.~
***** Testing *****
Chapter Notes
     January/Stella's innermost thoughts ~
     Yurei/Ikiryo's thoughts/communication =
     Mae/May's innermost thoughts ^
     Thanks for stopping by and giving this a read and kudos. Sorry it's
     been forever since my last update. I've been dealing with some pretty
     heavy shit on top of being sick. Hopefully, you guys had a decent
     holiday.
     From here on out William is going to be drastically OOC. I have my
     reasons, but mainly because I think he makes a magnificent villain.
     You'll have to read on to see my reasons why I chose Mr. Spears to be
     so OOC in certain situations. You know what they say about the quiet
     ones. Hehe.
     Underage sexual abuse referenced, however, keep in mind my OCs are
     considered adults in their culture. Also there's suicide via mind
     control with bloody gore. ***You have been warned.***
     Enjoy.
~Always. I always see him everywhere I go, staring down at me with cold eyes
full of hate. Ever since the day I became a woman and he saw the tattoo
covering the whole of my back, he's always there. Every test in the field and
in the lab, he's there. He shows no mercy or compassion. He merely watches and
waits until the others are finished violating me before he reminds me that I'm
an object. I miss Mae and I want to see the 'pretty one' again...if only I
could remember his name.~
                                    xxxxxx
The code of the Ikiryo had been cracked by the albino eugenicist. Cries of the
other experiments echoed within the prototype's mind as they, too, became
biological weapons. They had become eugenically engineered weapons of mass
destruction. While she was fused with the entirety of the Formless One, the
others only housed the Wills of stolen Ikiryo. Code marked by the seasons of
their cruelty, the eleven remaining weapons were herded off to perform lab
tests the first month was all too familiar with as she was escorted outside to
prepare for her leap to the mortal realm for more field tests. A glimpse of
green caught her eye when she spotted her close friend whom she hadn't seen
since that day. The sixteen year old regarded the green haired petite with sad
yet relieved eyes.
~Mae.~
^Stella!^
The two women brushed fingertips as they passed each other in the corridor.
Small smiles and a subtle flash of blue and green passed over the Rarities'
eyes at the metaphorical electric shock shared between them during their brief
contact. The fourteen year old's soft touch lingered on the lavender haired
woman's skin long after she passed by.
~Mae. She's the one!~
The green haired woman clung to her hand with a hint of pink dusting her
cheeks. Out of the other weapons being herded for testing, she was the only one
with an involuntary smile crawling onto her full lips.
^Stella. She's the one!^
~^I have to find a way to be with her alone.^~
As she watched the green weapon round the corner, she thought back to the first
lab test she underwent in her thirteenth year. What was it they said? Ah, yes!
They needed to work the kinks out of the system before they allowed her out in
the field.
~Of all the ass lancing words!~
                                    xxxxxx
Shortly after the Goddess made Her mark on her back, the thirteen year old
prototype found herself alone in a sterile "white room" with a two way mirror
along one side of the walls. The female shivered in the thin, white cotton gown
out of fear and cold. A tinny voice crackled over the speaker in the corner of
the room, announcing the start of the test. Immediately, she recognized the
voice, and her sad, glowing eyes went wide with fear.
~The 'evil one'! The reaper who thinks he can be the 'pretty one'.~
The lavender petite whipped her head around in the direction of the two way
mirror in a vain attempt to see through the reflective surface. She knew he was
in there...
~But he didn't actually kill Marcus nor has he ever touched me. He's never hit
me or called me names, but these are his orders...~
A confused expression befell the young lady's face as her large, lupine eyes
sadly illuminated her delicate features.
"...well, you will be rewarded. If you do poorly or disobey, you will be
punished. Do your best," the tinny voice said sarcastically.
"I don't understand what I'm doing!" the weapon complained.
A different voice took over the speaking from the unnecessarily evil reaper.
"You're going to make someone kill themselves, my pretty."
"I have to take another life?"
"Oh, yes, my pretty. It is instinct to you. You just don't know it yet." A
wheezy chuckle broke off as the door opened.
A vaguely familiar blue eyed male was shoved into the "white room". It was one
of the lackeys who participated in the blasphemous depravity committed against
her on her welcome to womanhood just a few short months ago. The petite's
irises became pitch as she stood motionless, facing the ugly male who violated
her along with several of his peers. Fear overcame him as he became trapped in
her expressionless gaze.
~You...~ The soft, airy voice sliced the blue eyed man's subconscious mind like
a blade through skin.
"What, bitch?" The depraved Empath tried miserably to put up a tough front.
~Rapist...~ The remainder of her eyes became night as the Formless One took
over, merging with the lady's desire for revenge, answering its call to action.
The female curled her hands into tight fists, nails digging into the palms of
her hands, blood running between her fingers and dripping to the floor in
sporadic drops as she kept her onyx glare trained on the violator writhing in
pain, prostrate at her feet.
=Crush your bones to dust. Crush your bones to dust. Crush your bones to
dust...=
The eerie chant echoed in the blue eyed lackey's head as he felt his skeleton
being broken one bone at a time, piercing random vital organs along the way. He
was left a lumpy flesh puddle full of powdered bones, leaking blood from any
available orifice. As his blue glow turned gray, the petite's mismatched glow
returned once the Ikiryo vacated the male's subconscious.
Something wet and squishy touched the experiment's bare toe. She looked down
and saw a pile of gore that had once been a male of her race and let loose a
blood curdling scream. She scrambled away from what was left of the body,
falling on her backside as she did so. Loud sobs and terrified wails escaped
her lips as she continued backing away from the flesh puddle until she hit the
wall behind her. Two Empaths and the chronically irritated reaper burst into
the "white room" during her outburst.
"You failed," the reaper stated coldly. "Do you know how much overtime your
constant failure is causing me? I cannot collect his records because of the
stunt you just pulled. Honestly!"
"I-I'm sorry!" the girl sobbed. "I won't make the body like that anymore."
"The condition of the body has nothing to do with it and you know it!" he
shouted.
"I'm sorry. I don't understand. I'll do better, I promise." Blue and green eyes
looked up at furious gold and green begging for just an ounce of compassion.
"Please don't punish me. Please."
"Glass, take her," the pruner wielder ordered, meeting the Rarity's ocular plea
for compassion with double irises of hatred.
The Empath eagerly obeyed, carrying the Rarity off to that certain room she
remembered from the dawn of her thirteenth year.
                                    xxxxxx
The field tests weren't going as well as they normally did. The thought of the
green haired beauty's soft touch lingered in her mind all day, thus proving to
be a distraction as she drove a man to shoot himself in the leg instead of the
head. Eventually, she got her act together and forced the bastard to eat a well
deserved bullet. It was messier than it should have been. A lot messier, but in
her opinion, prettier. She and the Ikiryo working as one weapon to eradicate
the random stranger felt coldly exhilarating. Instead of the standard method of
fine ammo dining, the petite's distraction inadvertently led to a gourmet of
brain matter served to-go with a massive head wound on top. The stranger
missing the top half of his head for no other reason than being driven to do so
by an unfamiliar voice in his dirty mind was quite the culinary masterpiece for
the obsidian eyed female to behold...that is, until she came to her senses.
Perhaps she should have been a little less messy. Perhaps she shouldn't have
gotten carried away. Perhaps...because she felt the cold eyes of the
bespectacled reaper silently judging her inadequacies until he finally lost
what passed for patience with her. His dark glare bored into the frightened
glow of her mismatched eyes just as she realized what it was she had done.
Power hungry lust, hatred, and disgust of golden green sent terrified shivers
down the female's spine. "I-I'm sorry, I'll do better. I'm just lost in thought
for some reason. Give me another chance. I promise I'll do better. I won't be
messy. Just don't punish me, please," the lavender winter begged, head bowed,
tears welling in her eyes.
The reaper pinned the tattooed winter to a brick wall by the throat with his
ever present pruning shears without warning. "You have had more than enough
chances and have failed miserably. Your poor performance will be reported
immediately." He let her drop to the ground in an awkward heap. "Your frequent
insubordination will also be duly punished," he coldly warned, picking the
woman up by her bleeding throat, squeezing hard enough to asphyxiate her.
"No, please," she pleaded in choked breaths as her lips turned blue from lack
of oxygen. "Was...only...this...once..."
The petite passed out in the iron grip of the stoic reaper. He knew exactly
where to apply pressure to get her to shut up within seconds and without
resistance. "Honestly, can't this abomination do anything right?" he huffed,
adjusting his glasses for the seemingly billionth time that day.
                                    xxxxxx
Hours later, the prototype woke up in a completely unfamiliar place with a soft
wrapping around her neck. Royal blue satin surrounded her, and for the first
time in years she was lying on something comfortable and soft.
~Is this a dream?~
The lavender winter rubbed her eyes, allowing their natural glow to adjust to
the new environment. She had obviously been bathed and given something to sleep
in since she no longer had blood in her hair and the white cotton gown had been
replaced by blue velvet. The large, comfortable bed shifted under her weight.
Cautiously, she peered through her hair at the figure laying close to the edge
of the bed opposite her. Even without the ponytail she could still recognize
the reaper.
~Oh Goddess, no!~
His black hair splayed about loosely over his muscular back. Even though she
hated the man, she was still obsessed with the inky tendrils that spilled over
the pale skin of his back. Lost in conflicted feelings and elapsed time, the
tattooed project lightly collapsed back onto the bed and softly cried, praying
to the Goddess that the man beside her didn't take advantage of her.
~Oh Goddess, please tell me he didn't touch me like that. Please!~
A cold hand with long, slender fingers lightly stroked her cheek, brushing away
her tears. "Hey," a deep, resonate voice greeted. "What's wrong, pretty lady?"
"D-did you...you know?" The frightened female's subtly glowing, mismatched eyes
met the ancient evil's bright chartreuse. "Please tell me the truth."
A soft smile graced his features. "No," he said softly. His black hair was the
perfect contrast against the bright chartreuse luminosity admiring the lavender
experiment beside him. "I'm not in the habit of abusing my prized possessions,
especially if they are beautiful women."
"Is that what I am? An object? A prize to be won? Property?" the female
questioned.
"That's the nature of reapers, beautiful. Don't feel bad. We're just a
possessive lot," he answered.
"Oh...How did I-"
"Emily found you in her lab when she came in to work. She tended to your wounds
and bathed you. You're wearing her favorite gown, you know. No matter. She went
back to work and left you here with me. I know what you're thinking, but I
assure you, I'm clothed from the waist down," the black haired man explained.
"Nothing happened?"
"Not a thing, beautiful. As I said, I'm not in the habit of abusing my prized
possessions, especially if they're beautiful women," the reaper reiterated.
"Am...am I g-going to be punished?" the lavender ice meekly whispered.
She felt herself being drawn into the reaper's embrace. The scent of patchouli
and old lace hit her olfactory senses as her face collided with his long, black
tresses. It was only for the fact that she was starving for any kind of sweet
affection and to feed her obsession that she returned his embrace. "Now why
would I punish you, beautiful?"
"I didn't do a good job today," she admitted, instinctively tensing, expecting
to be hit.
"I know, and I also know you saw your little green haired friend, too, so it's
understandable." The high ranking reaper chuckled as the female nuzzled into
him the more he pet her head. "You miss her, don't you?" He felt the lavender
beauty nod beneath his hand as it continued to stroke her hair. "I'll make you
a deal, beautiful." Hopeful, glowing blue and green looked back at him. "Stay
here with myself and Emily. She likes you, and for some reason, sees some kind
of religious significance for you. I can't refuse a woman like her. Now for the
most demanding part. Obey all commands given to you by your superiors without
fail and you can see your friend as much as you want. If I'm in a good mood, I
might let her stay here with you. There is one more catch, she must also
behave. Bad behavior cannot go unpunished as you are well aware. But with your
strange eyes, pretty face, and Emily's fixation on you, far be it for me to be
the one who punishes you."
"Does that mean I still have to be around the one in the suit with the strange
weapon?" the Rarity asked with sadly glowing eyes.
"I'm sorry, dear, but I have other responsibilities." The raven haired reaper
kissed the lavender experiment with insincere sweetness. "Sleep now, my strange
eyed beauty. You need to be fully healed before you return to the field. I
promise to pair you with someone else one day in the future. Until then, you'll
have to endure."
"Your hair is soft..." the female whispered as she fell asleep in her enemy's
arms. A tear rolled down her cheek and hit the fingers toying with the soft,
black strands draped over her.
~Am I that starved for any kind of affection that I'll accept it from my
enemy?~
That night, she dreamed of him, the "pretty one", the legendary reaper with the
long, silver hair and piercing green eyes.
~His hair looks like moonbeams.~
In her dream, they were One, just as the Goddess intended, and they were happy,
just as they intended.
~If only I could remember his name.~
***** Conflicted *****
Chapter Notes
     January/Stella's innermost thoughts ~
     Undertaker's innermost thoughts *
     William T. Spears' innermost thoughts #
     Hi, thanks for kudos and reading my twisted tale. Very much
     appreciated. New male OC is introduced and becomes a heavily
     involved, frequent fixture to the narrative from here on out. All
     will be revealed much, much later.
     **It is important that you've read part 1 as part of this chapter is
     an expansion of part of chapter 15 (Undertaker's musings & our
     protagonist's nightmare)** And it also gives a full view of William's
     wrath as indicated in chapter 15's notes.
     ***WARNING***This chapter contains underage sexual assault/rape
     (underage by our standards) of a controversial nature. Involuntary
     physical stimulus contradicting cognitive resistance to a deplorable
     act such as rape is depicted in this chapter. My OC is a masochist
     which adds to the controversial nature and her shameful feelings.
     This is poignant to the story as it explains much of the reasoning of
     why she is the way she is throughout part 1 until Undertaker helped
     her get through it.***YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED...TWICE***
     P.S. Sorry, Will fans. He's going to be way OOC from now on, like on
     par with the devil.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
A gray haired man with a battle axe watched the newly promoted Dispatch manager
and the prototype from a nearby rooftop just out of view. The sadness in her
strange, mismatched eyes struck a secret nerve with him. He was acquainted with
the eugenics project, but preferred to distance himself from the unethical
scheme as much as possible. The permanent, hard glare on his deceptively
youthful face softened into a look of pity as the petite cowered in front of
the pruner wielding manager. He couldn't understand why she didn't destroy him
the same way she did with the woman sprawled out before them in the alleyway.
It was messy, yes, but beautiful, original, a work of art. How the prototype
managed to possess the whore to drive knitting needles into her eyes hard
enough to pierce her frontal lobes was simply breathtaking. It made his ancient
heart skip a beat. Yet, here was this prim and proper, low ranked manager
chastising her for failing at her job.
"Bullshit, Spears," the gray haired man growled. "This woman is a work of art."
He narrowed his eyes at the manager brutally chastising the weapon and
disappeared into the shadows.
                                    xxxxxx
That day she felt as if she was being watched by another unfamiliar presence.
She didn't know who it could be and did her best not to let it interfere with
her "job." Despite her best efforts, it still didn't stop the cruel, newly
promoted manager from reminding her what a failure she was.
~His cold, scrutinizing eyes. They make me sick when he looks at me that way.~
She learned not to argue with the suited reaper anymore. The last time led to a
brutal beating and broken ribs. Though, she could easily kill the brute with a
single thought, she was far too frightened to lose her green treasure if she
did. For now, the black haired reaper with the ponytail was benevolent enough
to let her see spring bloom every morning, but she had the distinct feeling he
was beginning to tire of her presence.
~Not much of a prize after all.~
As they were passing the dreaded laboratory, they were intercepted by two of
the Empath eugenicists. Malice and devious lust glowed in their bright blue
eyes as they swept over the lavender weapon's body. "We need to borrow your
weapon, Mr. Spears," the dark haired scientist stated. "For more...tests...on
that." He pointed to the prototype with a sinister grin on his face.
The stoic reaper tore his Death Scythe free from their grasp with a hard glare.
"You will unhand my scythe," he barked. "You are not trained nor are you worthy
to handle a weapon of this importance."
"We could say the same for you, Mr. Spears," the blond grumbled under his
breath.
The three males stared each other down; blue eyes blazing, but smiles never
fading from the Empaths, and cold stoicism from the reaper that refused to
budge.
"These are important tests, Mr. Spears. I wouldn't want to report you to Mr.
Gaines, now, would I?" the dark haired scientist chided. "Just think of your
new promotion."
"Yes, Mr. Spears," the other chimed in. "In case you've forgotten, we have to
report to the same boss you do." The sickeningly twisted grin grew wider. "We
just want to see if she can tolerate-"
"Enough," the manager coldly cut the condescending Empath off. "I will
accompany you and assist with your 'tests' only because you two are not
qualified to handle a Death Scythe."
"That's a grand idea, Mr. Spears," the dark haired Empath drawled with a
growing sadistic grin. "Mr. Glass, please make the necessary...preparations."
He wheezed out a short, dark chuckle as his glowing blue eyes became further
illuminated by malicious lust. "Step into my parlor, Mr. Spears. It's
showtime."
Naked from the waist down, the female was strapped spread eagle to a special
examination table; undignified and under the influence of very powerful, fast
acting sedatives. The cold eyes of the reaper stared at the unwillingly
compromised woman laid out like a piece of meat with loathing disgust swimming
in the rich, gold and green hues of double irises. "Why will I be sullying my
scythe with this thing's flesh? Additionally, what is the purpose of the test
of which I am about to assist you two idiots with?"
"We just want to know if our pretty little prototype can be reaped or not," the
dark haired scientist drawled with a wheezy chuckle.
"Yes, 'Doc's' right," the blond agreed. "To be more specific, however, it's to
find out if she can withstand an attack from a Death Scythe in case there's any
trouble out on the field. It's just a general precaution. As for the location-"
"Ah, yes" the dark haired rogue cut in. "The testing location is merely a
sensitive area of the body capable of causing the subject maximum pain,
therefore, leading to more accurate results." The blue eyed man smiled at his
comrade who nodded in return. "As for your weapon, it just happens to be the
perfect size and shape to administer the test."
The Empath's grin stayed in place as the cold hearted manager thought it over
momentarily. Finally, he gave a curt nod, agreeing to take part in the perverse
round of experiments.
"I'm glad you understand, Mr. Spears," the dark haired eugenicist said as he
sauntered over to the exam table. "Ok, my pretty, we have a new round of
tests," he said in a cheerfully sadistic voice. "How pretty you are with your
legs open wide and tied down." He snickered at the drug hazed young Rarity.
#Pathetic, disgusting creature.#
"The test is simple, Mr. Spears. You will simply stab her inner thighs with
your Death Scythe until we tell you to stop," the blond rogue instructed. "Do
not clamp down on her skin. Her legs are thin enough already. Got it?" The
reaper gave a short nod of compliance. "Ok, begin."
With deadly precision, the cold, cruel manager's Death Scythe shot out and
stabbed the lavender lady's legs, jolting her from her drug hazed stupor. Over
and over again, he maliciously drove the pruners into the parts of her thighs
close to her hidden place. The searing hot pain was unlike anything she had
ever felt before. It was exponentially more painful than being fused with the
Ikiryo. Her screaming agony went ignored until the pain reclaimed her
consciousness.
Burning fury of unrequited love for the man she...
#I hope this abomination bleeds to death like the undignified thing it is. The
stupid little cunt stole him from me. It made him desert me. I will destroy
this abomination and it's filthy, disgusting eyes!#
...allegedly stole from him drove each thrust of the weapon into the
unconscious Rarity's mutilated flesh. Blind, jealous rage completely prevented
the reaper from hearing the blond rogue repeatedly yelling at him to cease his
actions.
"Mr. Spears! Stop!" the blond shouted. "Damn." With a single thought, the blond
threw the enraged Dispatch manager away from the female. "I told you to stop
several times, Mr. Spears," he calmly scolded the recovered reaper.
"What is the meaning of this?" the shocked tyrant shouted in reference to the
Cinematic Records rewinding themselves into the puncture wounds.
According to the eugenicists, as long as the experimental weapon wasn't on the
To-Die list and as long as the blow wasn't fatal, then the reaction was normal
for her kind, unlike the rest of their race. Of course, this wasn't the whole
truth.
"The trick could come in handy, Mr. Spears," one of the male Empaths advised.
The stoic manager looked down at the unconscious girl spread eagle and bleeding
on the exam table. "Duly noted," he replied. An ugly sneer crept over his lips
as power hungry lust joined the witch's brew of hatred, repulsion, and
murderous revenge swirling in his eyes. "Leave us," he commanded the
eugenicists in a low voice full of icy malice.
#How the hell did that thing heal so quickly?#
"The 'pretty one' wouldn't do these things to me..." the half conscious
experiment inaudibly whispered. "He said I was his precious little lovely that
day...He said I had the most beautiful eyes...One said I was beautiful..."
Tears rolled down her cheeks as she desperately grasped the memory of Legendary
Death's sweet words whispered in her ear. The very words that lit up her ever
glowing eyes and prompted her to innocently kiss his pale cheek. As she laid in
her drug addled stupor, unaware of a pair of cold, jealous eyes boring holes in
her soul, she felt conflicted.
~Mae is supposed to be the one. I love her. She loves me. We need each other.
She's special to me and I to her. But ever since that day, I've had this
feeling about the 'pretty one'...if only I could remember his name...A certain
feeling that the Goddess intends for us to be One. I don't understand. I don't
know what to do. I don't know what to think.~
Glowing eyes fluttered open to the sight of cruel gold and green staring down
at her from behind steel frame glasses. The dark, sadistic lust swimming in a
sea of loathing disgust did not go unnoticed by the powerless Rarity. "Stay
away from me," she squeaked. "Don't you-"
Pruners shot out and clamped down around the winter weapon's delicate throat.
"I don't obey objects," the cold reaper sneered, cutting off the Rarity's
desperate plea. "You will remain silent or I will kill your little girlfriend
and make you watch."
Keeping the green Rarity's life in mind, the lavender weapon obeyed. "Why are
you doing this to me? I haven't wronged you." The female couldn't help it. She
had to know. Silent tears streamed down her face as she awaited an answer from
her tormentor. Instead, his leather encased hand smoothly and curiously slid up
her leg and stopped to poke the freshly healed scythe wounds left in the wake
of his fury.
~Oh Goddess no!~
"You will come with me. Unlike the rest of your kind, I am not an idiot. I
prefer privacy," the irate manager ordered as he roughly released the girl from
the restraints.
The lavender winter was led to an empty, unmonitored room and locked in alone
with the contemptible reaper. Without warning, she was bent over a cold, metal
table with her captor biting down hard on the back of her neck as he invaded
her. She tried, but failed to contain the pleasure she felt from teeth sinking
into skin. She couldn't suppress the shame as the painful pleasure of being
bitten came from a man that was brutally violating her. Her feelings were in
absolute conflict with each other and the cold, cruel reaper knew it. Her
obsession powered on involuntarily as the stoic reaper dug his hand into
lavender tendrils,
~Please, dear Goddess, don't let him do it!~
and yanked her head back as hard as he could, causing her neck to pop one
vertebrae at a time as he relentlessly violated her. She grit her teeth to
stifle a moan as shamed tears rolled down her cheeks.
"You like it. You know you do," the bespectacled reaper whispered darkly as he
pulled her up by her hair and bit her shoulder. "Abomination," he grumbled,
shoving her face into the metal surface of the table, consequently breaking her
nose. The lavender girl openly wept when she felt something unfamiliar inside
her that wasn't blood. "You enjoyed it," he said coldly.
"N-no," she meekly disagreed. "You hurt me." The familiar scarlet feeling
returned accompanied by the flesh shredding pain as she continued to weep.
"You like it, you pathetic, abominable whore," the reaper responded matter-of-
factly. "You sounded like you enjoyed the pain. I believe you like to get
hurt."
"Why me of all people?" the young Rarity looked up with pained, conflicted,
glowing eyes.
"Because you stole him from me," he replied icily. "He fell for your inane
flattery and deserted me. He said things to you that I wanted to hear. I love
him. You can't have him. You are an object; a thing incapable and undeserving
of affection, especially his." Unexpectedly, the enraged reaper produced a
straight razor from the inner pocket of his blazer. "On your back," he gruffly
ordered. When the female continued to stare at him wide eyed in confusion, the
irate man hoisted her up by her throat and slammed her down on the table, using
his body weight to pin her on her back.
"What are you doing?" the flailing petite cried out.
"Silence!" the enraged reaper barked. Fed up with the Rarity's resistance, he
punched her in the face, temporarily knocking her out. He began to slowly carve
neat, deep, straight lines between the Rarity's legs, carefully avoiding the
puncture wounds left behind by his Death Scythe.
#If he ever sees this, he'll never want you. No one will, you ugly bitch!#
Midway through his endeavor, the weapon came to, prompting him to knock her out
again, but inaudible, easily misinterpreted moans made him reconsider. The
reaper carried on cutting, watching the blood flow as he repeatedly cut deeper
into each self healing wound until they eventually yielded to scarring. He
wanted to leave a lasting impression, a constant reminder of how repulsive he
thought she was. He cut, ensuring physical scars would be left behind.
#So the little bitch is a masochist. I can use this to my advantage.#
She inaudibly moaned, ensuring emotional scars would be left behind.
The lavender ice's feelings were on short circuit. The pain felt good; the
cutting, the biting. But the deliverer of that pleasurable pain was pure evil.
He awakened her obsession in all the wrong ways. He took advantage of her
secret hunger against her will. He was wrong, but her body alone, without
cognitive assistance, didn't know that, and as a result, her higher order of
thinking short circuited and shut down altogether. She attributed it to the
fact that this was the first time she was fully conscious and aware of what was
happening to her as it was happening. Confusion and conflicted emotions
overwhelmed the winter weapon, so all she could do was painfully weep. "Why?"
"Because you are nothing but an expendable object," the black haired reaper
replied with loathing eyes. "That's all you are and that's all you ever will be
until the day you are destroyed." Repulsion flashed in his eyes as he turned
and exited the room, leaving the girl lying on the metal table alone, beaten,
bloody, violated, unwillingly naked, and wallowing in her own conflicted shame.
The cruel man didn't even have the courtesy to leave her ruined gown behind so
she could cover herself, which only increased the feelings of shame dwelling
within her. Eventually, the defiled woman cried herself into an escapist sleep.
                                    xxxxxx
"You're my precious little lovely one," the silver haired reaper whispered to
the little, lavender haired Rarity. "You have the most beautiful, peculiar
eyes."
The girl's mismatched eyes lit up and she spontaneously kissed the grinning
reaper on the cheek, narrowly missing the corner of his mouth. "So do you," she
whispered back in broken English.
The silver reaper chuckled at her bad English, finding it endearing. "One day
Fate will bring us together again, Lovely," he whispered so softly she could
hardly hear him. "You really are beautiful and you'll be lovely when you grow
up." He kissed her on the cheek, then the forehead, and caressed her cheek.
*Fate...*
                                    xxxxxx
The broken woman woke to a deceptively youthful face framed by wavy gray hair
tumbling past slight shoulders. Sympathetic dark green and citrine eyes stared
at her through rectangular, rimless glasses. She realized he put something over
her to conceal her outward shame. Immediately, she started to cry again, and
flinched when the male's hand reached out to comfort her.
"You think I'm going to hit you, don't you?" he asked sympathetically. The girl
nodded with a sad, broken light struggling to shine in her mismatched eyes. "I
won't hit you." He hesitantly reached out and delicately caressed her cheek to
prove himself to her. "Where are your quarters, love?"
~Love? Aren't I just an object?~
"I'm staying with Emily and Mr. Gaines," the female replied shyly. "I don't
remember where my quarters are anymore." Glistening tears trickled from her
fearfully illuminated eyes. "Am I going to be punished?"
The gray haired reaper regarded her with sympathetic eyes. "Don't cry now,
love. I'm not going to punish you," he said softly, stroking her sweaty, blood
caked, lavender hair. Pity and something else overwhelmed him as he continued
his attempt at comforting the abused girl. "My name is Hesse, by the way. I'm
already aware of who you are."
"Who?" she shakily questioned.
The high ranking reaper balked at her response. "Yes, 'who'," he echoed. "No,
no, don't cry. I'll take you somewhere safe, ok, and see to your needs." The
gray haired man placed a slender hand over hers and gave her a reassuring
smile. "After which, you may choose where you wish to go."
"Are you nice like the 'pretty one'?"
"The 'pretty one'?"
The lavender Rarity nodded. "His hair is like yours but longer and lighter and
in a ponytail." She timidly reached out and touched a few strands of wavy gray,
making the male's heart skip a beat. "But equally as soft and pretty."
"I can be," he replied, gently kissing the girl's forehead. The thin reaper
scooped the petite up from the metal table and bundled her up tightly in his
black, brocade coat. The subtle glow of blue and green beneath porcelain
eyelids held his gaze and sped up his heart when the sudden realization hit
him: he felt something for her. He didn't know what the feeling was, but he
felt it as he held her close. He knew he pitied her, but this other feeling was
completely foreign. Another realization hit him as well: she already had a
lover, but even so, she pined for a legend she was gradually beginning to
forget. "Poor little love," he whispered to the unconscious bundle he held
close as he nimbly jumped from rooftop to rooftop on the way to his home. The
gray reaper was completely oblivious to his uptight subordinate spying on him
from the ground below. Even if he caught the Dispatch manager spying on him,
he'd easily reap his sorry ass despite his smaller stature. There was a reason
the gray haired reaper was still around after all these centuries. He was the
first recycled suicide, and that was legendary in itself.
                                    xxxxxx
Winter woke up wrapped in a gown of black velvet. She tensed when she felt arms
around her and someone snuggling up behind her, burying their face in her neck.
~Please let it be a dream. Let me wake up beside Mae or at least alone.~
All hopes were gone when slender fingers laced through hers and pulled her
closer to a thin, male body in a comforting embrace. "You were crying last
night, love," a gentle, male voice whispered in her ear. "I wasn't sure if I
should comfort you, but I did. Eventually, you calmed down and slept."
"Oh." The weapon remained tense, expecting the gray reaper to turn on her and
treat her with the same cold brutality as the pruner wielding manager. "How did
I..." she trailed off, unable to finish her inquiry.
"I saw to your needs, love. Though, your injuries mostly healed on their own,
they still needed looking after. I'm so sorry you were harmed in such a brutal
fashion," the shadow said apologetically.
The tearful Rarity relaxed in the thin reaper's warm, comforting embrace and
squeezed the slender fingers laced through hers. "Thank you," she whispered
gratefully. She turned around in his embrace and buried her face in gray waves,
unconsciously seeking out the sweet affection she was starving for in her hour
of desperation.
"You're starving aren't you?" the sweet shadow questioned.
"I'm not hungry."
"Not for food, for affection, love," he responded. "A certain kind of
affection. Do you wish to see her?"
The icy beauty turned her face up to meet her benefactor's sympathetic gaze
with bleary, skeptical eyes dimly lit with a glimmer of hope. "What's the
catch?"
"None. All you need do is ask."
"What about Mr. Gaines? Won't I be punished?"
"I'm his boss, love. As long as you're with me, I'll take care of you. You need
encouragement, not punishment. You're a wonderful work of art, love. Your
skills merely need to be honed, but your work is indeed beautiful." The thin
man reached over the girl to retrieve his glasses from the nightstand, exposing
a column of silver loops running down the length of his spine. Curiously, the
female lightly brushed a fingertip down a few loops between his shoulder blades
and found herself pinned to the bed by the wrists. "Don't do that," he warned.
"I like you and do not wish to take advantage of you." He released her wrists
and allowed her to sit up.
"May I see her, Mr. Hesse?" the broken woman softly asked, taking the high
ranking reaper's hand in hers with a bowed head.
"Of course. You stay here and rest, and I'll bring her here. Look at me, love,"
he softly requested, tilting her head up to meet his sympathetic gaze. "It's
just Hesse. I have no other name. Ok?" The female nodded. "I can tell you're
conflicted about many things, love. I can see it in your strange, beautiful
eyes."
"You're the first recycled suicide, a shadow that never chooses a side. Now,
you are also finding yourself feeling conflicted," winter weaponry responded
with averted eyes.
The unusual male cupped her delicate face in his hands and met her glowing eyes
with high contrast double irises of dark green and citrine astonishment. "How
right you are, love. How right you are."
"Your eyes are beautiful, too," the Rarity shyly complimented. She timidly
brushed her fingers over the smooth skin of his cheek, sending shivers
rocketing up and down his spine.
~But not the same way the 'pretty one's' eyes are...if only I could remember
his name.~
Chapter End Notes
     Jealousy and wrath are not a good combination to have at all,
     especially if one is a reaper.
***** Tears *****
Chapter Notes
     January/Stella's innermost thoughts ~
     May/Mae's innermost thoughts ^
     William T. Spears' innermost thoughts #
     Hi and thanks for reading my story. I greatly appreciate it. *grins*
     This chapter has wonderful yuri fluff, suicide via mind control,
     references to past sexual abuse, & dismemberment depending on one's
     perspective. ***YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.***
     Enjoy!
See the end of the chapter for more notes
^Stella. Stella, wake up. I'm here.^
~Mae? Is it really you?~
^Yes. He brought me here.^
~Who brought you here?~
^The thin man, the Gray Shadow. You're still with him. Wake up.^
The weary petite slowly opened her eyes to the lovely sight of her green haired
lover smiling down at her. "Mae! Is it really you?" she cried, taking her into
her arms with a passionate kiss. "I'm not dreaming this?"
"No, my love, you're not dreaming, it's really me." The spring weapon giggled
and returned her lover's kiss. "The Gray Shadow brought me to you. He said you
wanted me, and I should go to you because someone hurt you. Was it the man in
the suit with the strange weapon? Did he..."
"Not now, Mae," lavender winter spoke softly, the aching glow of her mismatched
eyes confirming the green haired woman's suspicions. "You know, you've always
had a way with words. That's why Marcus loved you so."
"That, and I loved his clothes. I miss him."
"I do too. You look beautiful in leather, Mae," the lavender winter said lowly,
referring to the green petite's ensemble.
"You look beautiful clothed in Death, Stella," winter's perceptive lover
replied. "So primal, vicious, exotic, and free." Delicate fingers traced the
outline of a large, lupine eye. "I know why Death loves you, Stella. Our eyes
may glow in identical lights, but yours are blessed by the Goddess Herself.
They are sacred and unlike all other eyes. Our Mistress created your eyes
larger than the rest of ours because you are special to Her; because you are
sacred. The tattoo on your back is proof! I know I'm not the One for you, but
I'm happy being the one you need and the one you love. I will always love you,
Stella."
"Mae, don't talk like that! You know I only love you!" she impassionately
replied to spring's prophetic compliment.
The green beauty smiled and allowed the green and blue glow of her almond
shaped eyes communicate with her lover.
^Don't tell me you don't dream of the 'pretty one.' I know you miss him, and I
know you feel something for him you don't understand. You are desired by Death,
my love, but not the young. I have known you all our lives. We are bonded. I
know your feelings are conflicted in many ways, you don't need to hide them
from me. I will never spill our secrets. Just know that you are the one for me,
and when I look at you, my secret places begin to unlock in rapid succession.
My eyes become flame when we make love. And the way you touch me leaves me with
a hunger that can never be sated. You feel it for me too, but not in the same
way you feel it for the one when you dream of him.^
~If I was human, I'd envy your incredible perceptive ability.~
Flaming blue and green of both petites locked onto one another as winter and
spring collided in an intimate kiss. Small fingers thread through the pastel
tresses of one woman and vivid strands of the other, lighting the flames of
both women's obsessions. "Mae..." the lavender Rarity purred as her lover
grazed her scalp with her nails. She twisted her delicate fingers into fat
green curls and pulled back hard, attacking the petite at her mercy with icy
bites and kisses. Winter weaponry slipped her hand up her lover's skirt,
seeking out what was hidden beneath, hoping her precious burst of spring would
reciprocate and feed her secret hunger.
~The one that he knows now.~
"Stella...I-I...it's my first day on the field. I'll be punished if I'm late,"
the green weapon mumbled, looking away with a deep flush dominating her ivory
cheeks. "I've never seen...I liked it, but I do have to go. I love you." She
looked back up at her lover with a meaningful light shining in her eyes in
hopes that she'd understand her sincerity.
"I love you, too, Mae," the prototype said sadly. "Goodbye."
Spring weaponry furrowed her hairless brows. "Stella..."
"I clearly...just...we'll talk later. Don't be late on your first day. No
punishment for my Mae, ok." The winter petite forced a small smile. "I love
you."
"And, I love you," winter's lover responded with a sweet kiss.
The experiment closed her eyes and fought back the urge to cry as she was once
again left alone. The past day had been an absolute nightmare, and now she was
afraid she may have driven her only source of solace away just so she could
feed her desire for pleasurable pain; her secret hunger.
~How could I think this is the right time or place to share this urge I have
with her? How foolish of me!~
The secret hunger that the vengeful, irate man with the pruning shears is now
fully conscious of since...
~His cold, hateful, lusty eyes. His painful touch that brings pleasure that
makes my eyes dark. He knows my obsession. He knows my secret hunger. He knows
my weakness. He exploits me. He hurts me. I am an object. His object.~
                                    xxxxxx
The weapon didn't know how long the shadow held her or that she had been crying
in her sleep again. "You're not 'his object', love," the sweet shadow cooed,
placing soft kisses on her neck. She felt the shadow move her into a sitting
position and cup her face in his hands. "It was one of my kind that left you
broken, wasn't it?"
Mismatched eyes fluttered closed, then snapped open. Furious, fiery gems burned
holes into the gray haired reaper's dark, intense double irises.
"Oh, my beautiful love, I'm so sorry," he said softly and sincerely.
"Love...object...destroy..." Blue and green illumination shifted from fury to
confusion to sadness to guilt and back again. "What am I?"
"A Rarity," the thin reaper replied sincerely. "A beautiful Rarity whose
unfortunate circumstance is to function as a weapon for a war borne of hatred
and boredom." The gray haired male peered at her with sympathetic eyes as he
slowly raked his fingers through lavender silk, doing more than just soothing
the aching girl's heart. "Your hair is soft and beautiful, love."
"Your eyes are beautiful." The petite whispered as she delicately traced one
thin, gray brow, then the other. Her delicate touches traveled the angle of his
narrow jaw. "And beautiful, fine bone structure." Her delicate fingertip paused
on his carotid artery. She inwardly smiled as the reaper's pulse quickened
under subtle glow and delicate caress. It felt good to feel wanted as she is,
as she was-a Rarity-rather than being objectified.
"Stella, this may be a bit forward-"
The lavender Rarity cut off his request with a soft kiss, digging her slender
fingers into strands of soft gray. Like the shadow he is, the reaper
reciprocated with dark softness in equal measure.
"How did you know?" the gray reaper inquired, staring wide eyed at the
affection starved experiment.
"I could sense it in your beautiful eyes. I know you want more, but are
endeavoring to keep yourself under control, especially on account of...you
know." Tears welled up in glowing jewels.
"Don't cry, love," the shadow whispered, softly kissing away her tears. "I
won't do anything without your consent, ok." The female nodded. "Is it alright
if I kiss you again?"
"Yes, it felt nice to be kissed by a male who didn't think of me as an object
for once," she said bashfully.
"I'm glad I could be that one." The ancient shadow pulled the Rarity into a
warm embrace. "Gods, your eyes are beautiful. You are beautiful." Intensity and
luminosity gazed at each other a few moments longer. "Such strange eyes," the
shadow sensually whispered as he descended on the petite in a passionate kiss.
                                    xxxxxx
The cold, jealous eyes of the Dispatch manager carefully scrutinized the
experiment outside the library as they prepared to phase out to the mortal
realm. It was the final day of directly supervised field tests for the
prototype before its creation was determined a success or failure. Already, he
had given her poor marks, citing "inefficiency" and "noncompliance" among other
things. No one else knew of the suited reaper's vendetta against her aside from
the green haired girl, but she, too, was powerless to stop him from exacting
his unnecessary revenge against the prototype for "stealing" his heart's
desire.
#I will see you destroyed after today.#
The weapon's attire was out of the ordinary, and the cold man found himself
wondering where she acquired the long, black dress. He was also curious as to
where the weapon had been for the past two days without facing punishment.
#Who did the whore flatter now?#
                                    xxxxxx
~His cold, jealous eyes. I hate it when he looks at me like that.~
The petite in black used her new image as a tactical advantage on this, her
final day of testing. A filthy opium pusher thought it would be a good idea to
try touching her inappropriately in a back alley-her new hunting ground-behind
a run down building. Her glowing eyes turned black as she stood staring at the
dirty dealer, face devoid of expression. Her soft, airy voice drilled into his
mind as she stood motionless, hands hanging limply at her sides.
~When did escapism become a trap for you? Was it when you were 'touched' by
your grandfather?~
"How do you know that?" the perverted pusher shrilly questioned. Exposed tears
of old wounds reopened welled from bloodshot eyes and began trickling down his
ruddy cheeks.
~He'd touch you and suck you-~
"Stop it!" the broken man yelled. "I don't want to relive it!"
~Then he'd fuck you.~
"I need a fix..." the man of false dreams muttered. "I didn't need to
remember."
~So the cycle repeats, but you use drugs as an excuse to forget about violating
little ones. Then, you sell them false dreams so they end up like you.~
"No!" the dopehead cried out. He looked up from his place on his knees and met
the black eyes of the petite. "No!" he screamed as her eyes became cold, black
pits.
~The end is the only real dream no drug or drink can provide.~
"Why did you make me remember?" Tears of a traumatic past streamed down his
face as he unconsciously fished in his pockets for a knife.
~Close your eyes.~
"Are you a demon? Only a demon would force me to remember!" he spat as he
mechanically scooped each eye out of its socket. Two empty pits weeping crimson
tears stared at nothing. The opium pusher mumbled his regretful apology as his
knife moved to his throat against his free will.
~Go to sleep.~
Understanding the cryptic instruction, the filthy pervert pushed the knife deep
into his sweaty skin, slightly twisting his wrist, and slowly dragged the blade
across his throat, allowing the blood to spill like a scarlet waterfall.
~I'm just a friend.~
Those four soft, airy, self satisfied words were the last things stuck in the
perverted drug dealer's subconscious before he faded from this mortal coil.
Obsidian pits gave way to subtly glowing emerald and sapphire. The weapon
stared in shock at the eyeless corpse at her feet bleeding out from a self
inflicted gash to the throat. Pruning shears swiftly entered her vision,
impaling and collecting Cinematic Records visible only to reapers...
~And to...me?~
The experiment hadn't realized she was crying until the suit clad reaper stood
towering over her with nothing but cruel words regarding her work. She suddenly
found herself on her hands and knees in a pool of blood.
~Mine?~
"Did you hear a word I said, you abomination?" the tyrant manager yelled.
"I'm sorry, I thought I did well today," the winter storm softly protested
through shaking sobs.
~Not my blood.~
"Please don't punish me again. I promise I'll do better on the next test," the
girl pleaded.
"There won't be a next time. You have failed," the Dispatch manager stated
coldly, jabbing the Rarity with the tip of his Death Scythe at the utterance of
each cruel word.
"And, just how has this Rarity failed, Mr. Spears?" a razor sharp voice
demanded from somewhere above the blood soaked prototype.
"Sir!" The Dispatch manager straightened up and bowed respectfully to his
superior. "As you can plainly see, it has continued to make a mess of things.
Additionally, it continues to have unnecessary emotional outbursts. It is
clearly a liability to the project, sir," the clean cut reaper curtly replied.
He flashed a hateful glare at the Rarity bathing in corpse's blood while
awaiting his superior's reply.
"It, Mr. Spears?" The superior reaper cocked an eyebrow. "I see no 'it'."
"Yes, sir. It." The underling refused to back down from his stance that the
lavender haired woman was only an object to him; unworthy of autonomy.
~Unworthy of love.~
"The only reason you are here is because Gaines brought you on. The only reason
I allow you to stay is our common hatred for vermin," the gray reaper harshly
reminded his subordinate. "Mr. Spears, you will treat her with respect. I see
no failure on her part, rather, I see it on yours. You failed to remember she
is the entirety of two beings in one body, whereas the others are merely of
dual consciousnesses. Therefore, emotional difficulties are to be expected on
her part, especially with your abusive tactics. In fact, this particular Rarity
requires encouragement if she is to function effectively."
"Sir, how is it fair to the others if this...weapon has special treatment?" the
low ranked manger pressed.
"Fairness is not the issue, Mr. Spears. Clearly, you didn't understand what I
said. January is the prototype, therefore, her treatment is different because
she is different. With her great power comes great hardship, which you have
failed to properly handle. I will finish her final evaluation myself and
determine her fate. You will hand me her file, now," the gray haired superior
ordered, voice colder than ice and eyes harder than steel.
The petite looked up at the scene transpiring above and felt a wave of fear
rush over her as she beheld the terrifying look in her benefactor's eyes. Tears
welled in her subtle jewel toned eyes as she cautiously backed away. The sound
of a fearsome battle axe manifesting sent the experiment backing further into
the shadows at a quicker pace.
"Spears, do not make me repeat myself," the Gray Shadow threatened, holding his
sadistic scythe at his subordinate's throat. He took great pleasure in the fear
displayed in the younger reaper's eyes despite his being nearly a head taller
than him. "Thank you, now get out of my sight," the smaller reaper growled as
soon as the Rarity's paperwork was transferred to his expectant hand.
As the two reapers argued, the petite continued backing away until she caught a
glimpse of silver watching from across the street. A strange glow ignited
within her mismatched eyes.
~Is that him?~
She blinked once, twice, three times, and the glimpse of silver was still there
staring straight at her. She blinked once more and that precious glimpse of
silver that lit up her eyes in that strange way was gone, taking the strange
glow with it.
~Was it even him? Was he even there? Is it just wishful thinking?~
A pair of slender, yet somehow strong arms embraced the woman's crouched form.
A pair of soft lips kissed away her tears and sympathetic, reassuring words
were whispered in her ear. "You don't have to do another test today, love. I
was watching you. I thought you were wonderful."
"You'll let me live?"
The gray reaper nuzzled the experiment's cheek with his. "Of course, love. Come
home with me. I may find the sight of you bathed in blood alluring, but under
the circumstances, I'm sure you don't share the same sentiment."
"Home?" The petite looked up at the unusual reaper, a single tear falling from
each brilliantly colored eye as she beheld his high contrast double irises on a
desperate mission for the truth behind his sweet words.
"Yes, home, love, with me," he reiterated.
"Ok, Hesse, I'll go home with you," the female agreed. "Will I be punished?"
"With me? Never. I could never bring myself to punish someone special like
you," the reaper promised. "Don't cry, love. You have no more reason to shed
tears," he whispered sweetly. "If I may, I'd very much like to kiss you again."
The female gave a small nod of consent and the shadow's soft lips met hers in a
sweetly domineering kiss that left her craving more.
Chapter End Notes
     Shame is literally not a word in my OC's vocabulary, hence the
     expression "makes my eyes dark." In my OC's culture sexual openness
     is embraced, thus, no shame.
***** Famine *****
Chapter Notes
     January/Stella's innermost thoughts ~
     Yurei/Ikiryo's innermost thoughts/communication =
     William T. Spears' innermost thoughts #
     Hi, and thanks for dropping by for a twisted read. Heehee! *grins*
     This chapter is a little bit kinder to the senses with sexy time!
     Yay! *But,* it's between two OCs, so you'll have to endure as it is
     poignant to the story.
     Enjoy!
See the end of the chapter for more notes
"You're starving aren't you?...for affection...a certain kind of affection. Do
you wish to see her?"
Oh Goddess, yes, she was famished! The shadow's haunting voice echoed in her
head when she thought of her. More than anything, she wished to see spring's
beautiful face when she woke up each morning. She wanted to watch her lover's
warm glow light up beneath the veil of flesh. The icy experiment yearned to see
her long, green lashes become rolling hills of lush meadow land as she entered
REM sleep. The only time she retained the shy innocence in her eyes was the
moment they opened and beheld the prototype's face. After that first dawn's
kiss, spring's innocence gave way to storms. Since that day, two years ago, in
the fall of her seventeenth year, spring hasn't returned. Winter knew she
overstepped her boundary when she tried to satisfy her secret hunger with the
young Rarity.
~I had hoped she would understand.~
It was the fall of her nineteenth year and she was starving for her green
haired lover, and strangely enough, for him-the shadow. He knew she was
starving, but all he did was feed her crumbs. He conspicuously avoided doing
anything more than innocent with her, although they both knew he wanted more.
He knew she was in love with spring's wrath, and was pining after a legend she
was gradually beginning to forget. The experiment's starvation had evolved into
famine, which began driving her to the point of considering suicide despite
being bound to the green beauty she'd been missing for the past two years.
However, a strange, somewhat forbidden hope kept her lingering within the
mortal plane. A forbidden feeling for her benefactor most likely fueled by
famine.
~Do I actually want him?~
She pushed the feeling deep into the darkest of the secret place of her
subconscious. It was most likely famished delusions from being denied affection
for so long. Just one kiss would be enough to stop the pain of absent affection
in her waking world. The weapon's eyes closed as she thought of the shadow's
soft kiss on the day he took her into his home. As she fell asleep, the
starving weapon was unwillingly whisked away to a harsh reality she wished to
forget.
                                    xxxxxx
~His eyes, green and yellow, look at me with such hatred. His face a neutral
mask, but the loathsome lust scanning me from head to toe betray it. He knows
my obsession and exploits me. He knows my secret hunger and objectifies me. He
knows my weakness and uses it against me. His touch brings pleasurable pain
that makes my eyes dark. I am an object. I am his object. Every time I remind
him of the 'pretty one', he never lets me forget that.~
"So, it was Hesse you whored yourself out to," the cold, hard voice accused.
"Is that how you acquired this hideous garment? You did more than just flatter
my superior, didn't you? You're nothing but a cheap whore and an abomination!"
The lavender Rarity averted her eyes. "I did nothing of the sort. He found me
as you left me," she meekly retorted.
"Is that why I saw you kissing him yesterday?" the irate reaper fumed.
"Why does that matter to you? I don't belong to you, so leave me alone!" the
weapon stated with cold conviction.
Pruning shears darted out and pinned the girl to the brick wall by the throat
with deadly precision. The blades closed with just enough pressure to draw a
small amount of blood from the dangling experiment's neck. "We're not in your
filthy realm anymore. This is my realm. You'll do well to remember what you
are. You are property. You are an object, and apparently, you enjoy being
mine."
"N-no, I don't. I'm not your object," the weapon managed to squeak out.
"Yes, you are," the stoic reaper countered with cold malice inhabiting his
voice. "Now go make a mess of things. Your 'victims' are waiting, you sick
freak of nature."
As the angry man phased out, the biological weapon laid on her side, clutching
her bleeding throat. "I am not your object," she repeated in increased volume
between broken sobs. "I am not your object!"
                                    xxxxxx
"I am not your object..."
Her tearful murmurs drew the attention of the ancient shadow.
"I am not your object..."
Feather soft kisses rained down on her face. Slender fingers softly slid
through her hair. A haunting voice whispering sweet, reassuring words floated
into her auditory senses. "Of course you're not 'his object', love. No more bad
dreams." The owner of the sweet, haunting voice placed a gentle kiss on her
forehead just as he did that day.
"Don't go," the lavender haired woman softly implored. Hungry, softly glowing,
mismatched eyes slowly opened and beheld the reaper kneeling at her bedside.
They were alike in how their deceptively small frames housed great power, yet
different as he was well skilled and she hardly had a grip on hers. Like her,
he was fine boned to the point of almost appearing fragile, but the appearance
was merely an illusion. She knew from the many times she woke up with her arms
around him how stiff his ribs were. What would pierce the organs of her own
race he could take in stride-just as all death gods can. Sympathy did not count
as affection since she was sent back to her room once she was calmed from the
nightmares that stalked her behind closed eyes. This time would be different.
~I know why...it's because of that day...~
"You have such a strange, beautiful innocence in your eyes," the unusual man
mumbled. His high contrast gaze stayed fixed on the lavender beauty's hypnotic
light. The longer she looked at him with that strange, innocent hunger glowing
in her eyes, the faster his ancient heart beat. He knew he wanted her, and he
knew she was famished. He closed his eyes and failed to contain the tiny
whimper that escaped him when the experimental weapon delicately ran her
fingertips down his bare chest. "Please don't do this to me," he murmured. Soft
lips met his in a lingering, hungry kiss. "You're starving, aren't you?" the
reaper asked breathlessly as he pulled away from the female.
"Just don't go," she responded, pulling the reaper in for another passionate
kiss.
The gray haired reaper crawled into bed with the lethal weapon without breaking
the kiss. "I know you're starving my love...
~My love?~
...and you know how I feel. Please don't tease me like this." The pleading
sadist groaned as the Rarity nibbled his neck, just underneath his jaw. "Oh
gods, I want...No. Stella-" The reaper's protests were cut off by winter's
shocking kiss. He melted into her sudden dominance with closed eyes and a
hesitantly opening heart. "I want to take you," he softly murmured into the
kiss.
The woman abruptly broke away with shocked glowing eyes. "What?" Her hands
quickly shot up to her neck, desperate to cover the exposed flesh. "You said I
didn't belong to anyone."
The shadow's dark green and citrine eyes met hers. Something deeper than
sympathy lurked in the high contrast depths of his gray framed orbs.
~He's never looked at me this way before.~
"Love, you misunderstand," he said softly as he gently removed her small hands
from her slender neck. "I don't want you as a mate. I do not stake claims. 'I
want to take you', simply put, means that I want you to sate your hunger with
me. I won't force you, but all I ask is that you don't lead me on." He removed
her hands from her neck again. "Why do you keep doing that, love?"
"Object...property...prize to be won...possession..." Shameful tears jumped out
of their restrictive ducts and slid down her pale cheeks in guilty rivulets.
"First, Mr. Gaines bit me here." She pointed to a spot on her neck behind her
ear. "And said I was his, and if I wanted to see Mae, I had to obey. A year
later, the other...the back of my neck, my shoulder. Unwillingly theirs,
property, unworthy of autonomy, an object; that is all that I am. Now you...and
Mae is gone." The lavender winter rest her head on the other's shoulder and let
slip more guilty tears.
The shadow inspected all the traumatic places, searching for signs of bondage
to another other than her mate. "Love, you belong to no one. There is no proof
left behind suggesting as much." The male brushed stray lavender out of the
Rarity's eyes and kissed her tears away. "Do you want to know a secret?"
"Why do you do that? Why do you kiss my face when I cry?"
"That's a secret I won't reveal."
"Then, what is your secret? Please don't lie to me out of pity," the icy
experiment softly demanded.
"I, too, am starving," the Gray Shadow confessed. "If you had any idea what
it's like to be as old as I am, you'd understand that madness is loneliness,
and time is an enemy that can never be vanquished. For someone like me, who's
been around for millennia..." he trailed off as though he were gathering his
thoughts. "I am the face of famine," he finally declared with a hint of
resentment in his haunting voice.
"You've never-"
"No, love, I've had more than I care to count, but I live in a self made Hell
of loneliness. It is my survival mechanism. My neutrality keeps me alive. I do
not stake claims, I do not take sides. My hatred keeps me from redemption,
however." The first recycled suicide's eyes flashed. "Regardless of the
importance that vermin serve to the balance of things, I would happily drink my
absinthe and spit in the face of the Divine as the demons of Hell are
mercilessly annihilated."
"I don't like demons very much either, but it's angels that I loathe the most,"
the Rarity growled. "Blasphemous, unclean, haughty, foul, genocidal servants of
the False One. It's because of them that the Transcendentals are extinct!
Imperfect arbiters of purity created by a male deity! She will have Her
vengeance. The End will come soon, and you will dance and spit in the faces of
whom you choose." The Rarity's blue and green lights began to strobe under the
full illumination of her wrath. Strong, slender arms enveloped her quaking body
and calming words were whispered in her ear. "I'm sorry..." she trailed off,
releasing a deep intake of breath.
The sweet shadow chuckled. "You're as mad as I." He looked into the glowing
eyes of the lavender weapon. "Gods, you're beautiful, Stella."
"So are you," the woman with hungry eyes replied. She delicately caressed the
gray reaper's face while trapping him in her hypnotic lights. "Your cheekbones
are razor blades, your eyes are beautiful, toxic storms, and your hair is an
angry storm cloud." She lightly ran a finger down the loops lining the reaper's
backbone. "The accouterments in the notches of your spine are-"
The ancient shadow cut the girl off with a dominating kiss as she ran her
fingers down the column of loops lining his backbone. "I warned you, didn't I?"
he growled. He pinned the petite below him and attacked her neck with harsh
bites and kisses.
"I know," she breathed. "And I want you."
The gray haired reaper ceased his actions and stared wide eyed at the weapon
below him. "Don't tease me, love. I know you still have Mae. I know how you
feel about males."
The Arctic weapon slid slender fingers through gray waves as she beheld the
reaper staring down at her. "You know my people are polyamorous. You know my
people don't believe in chaining themselves to a single person for the
remainder of their lives. Our mates are whom we bond with in the mind, but
beyond that we are free to take other lovers. So, I'm not leading you on,
Hesse. I want you." She stared up at him with hungry eyes and allowed her
fingers to delicately traverse the piercings decorating the male's back. She
squeaked as he pinned her down to the bed by the wrists and descended upon her
in a dominating kiss.
The reaper's slender fingers smoothly slid up her wrists and laced through her
fingers. "Have you ever been with a man completely of your own free will?" The
wide eyed look of guilty shock said it all. "I'm glad I can be that one whom
you can willingly savor," the sweet shadow seductively whispered, capturing the
female's lips in a heated kiss. Her emerald and sapphire eyes lit up with
pleasure as the gray reaper pulled her up in a sitting position without
breaking the kiss. His soft hands ghosted over the contours of her slender
frame from beneath her black gown. "Do with me what you will," he whispered as
he removed the Rarity's gown and beheld her naked glory. "Anything you wish, my
beautiful love."
"Anything?" she whispered. The lights of her mismatched eyes grew brighter and
more hypnotic as she drew him in.
"Anything," the shadow confirmed from far away, mesmerized by the lights of the
Rarity's eyes.
"As we are both starving, let us devour each other," the lavender winter
growled in her own version of soft sensuality.
With the declaration made, the violent winter wrapped her limbs around the thin
reaper and drew him into her. The Gray Shadow was pure passion as he sated his
hunger with the Rarity. His sadistic rhythm and velvet touches unlocked her
secret places almost immediately. The shadow devoured her the way fire burns a
heretic; burning deep into the flesh at a steady pace before intensifying at
the all consuming climax. The petite lifted her hips to meet his with each
thrust, allowing him to be the forbidden key unlocking her secret places as her
brilliantly colored eyes lit up in ecstasy.
"Oh my Goddess, Hesse," the lavender haired woman groaned.
She allowed the gray haired reaper no respite as her hunger was nowhere near
sated. He growled softly when the female targeted his weakness and lightly
clawed a few loops between his shoulder blades. His eyes widened as the winter
storm wrapped her hand around his throat and used the power of her mind to flip
him on to his back.
"You look beautiful at my mercy," winter whispered in sadistic seduction. "I'm
not finished with you yet."
The usually dominant sadist stared up at the petite holding him down by the
throat with one hand and the power of her mind. "I don't believe I've seen you
look this way; animalistic sadism in its purist form. You are the totality of
subliminal beauty. I am privileged to be at your mercy, my beautiful love," the
ancient meaningfully declared, high contrast eyes boring into mismatched,
hypnotic lights. "Whatever it is you're doing to me, don't stop..." he trailed
off, trapped like prey in the lavender predator's gaze.
As she began her vicious dance, she would be the heretic unconsumed by his
flames. She moved faster, rolling and snapping her hips as she ground down hard
on his. Her emerald and sapphire eyes became exploding suns as the reaper's
slender fingers traversed the contours of her back in that certain way that
even Mae couldn't figure out. The way he touched her and the way his movements
complemented hers, even when at her mercy, unlocked her secret places over and
over again. She pulled the shadow up to her level by his throat and quickly
wrapped her legs around his slim waist. Delicate fingers dug their way into
soft gray as she ground her hips down hard on the reaper at her mercy. Two
pairs of furiously glowing eyes gazed into each other, two pairs of slender
hands slid through dusty hued tresses, and one shocking kiss was exchanged
between them. The unusual shadow's eyes flashed as her nails clawed deep, red
lines over his back. The reaper pulled lavender locks down, exposing a throat
begging to be bitten. The female's legs wrapped tighter around him as her
secret places unlocked once more with the succulent, painful pleasure of teeth
sinking into skin. Their lips collided in a fiery kiss as she lightly clawed
the loops lining the shadow's spine.
"I love you," the gray reaper whispered, intense eyes gazing into hers. With
one final kiss, the shadow's completion was reached in the arms of a weapon.
                                    xxxxxx
To the Rarity, sex with him was strictly physical, albeit a forbidden element
was evident. Why he said he loved her, she knew not nor did she understand.
Maybe he did love her.
~No, he pities me.~
"Why did you say that to me?" the sleepy Rarity asked the spent reaper lying
beside her.
"Because I do," he replied with a soft kiss.
~No, you pity me.~
"You don't have to respond, my love. I'm simply stating how I feel. Don't lead
me on with a lie if you don't feel the same way that I do."
"Are you sure you love me?" she asked skeptically.
"Honestly, Stella, I think I love you," he answered truthfully. "I've never
allowed myself to feel before. I know I feel something, but I'm not sure what
it is. It very well could be love. I'm fine with my love for you remaining
unrequited as long as I can be with you. Considering all that you've been
through, I wouldn't give my heart so freely whether or not I had a mate." The
thin man drew the winter weapon into his embrace. "If it is offensive to you, I
shall never utter those words again. All you need do is tell me." The Gray
Shadow affectionately nuzzled the Rarity's head with his cheek as he drew her
deeper into his embrace. He let his slender fingers travel down the contours of
her back in the way that made her purr like a cat in zen.
"That feels good. Not even Mae can do that the way you do," the melting ice
murmured as she snuggled deeper into the affectionate reaper's warm embrace.
"I'm glad I could be that one," he whispered back with a tender kiss to her
soft lips.
                                    xxxxxx
=I am me. She is she. I preserve the pretty memories they make you forget. Fate
is fate. Unwilling, unrelenting, unforgiving. Spring will bloom again. Her
hunger has become starvation. Without you she is incomplete. The day will come,
but it will be a dark day when you see spring bloom. She is she. I am me.=
                                    xxxxxx
The Formless One spoke prophetic words to her that night as she slept
comfortably in the sweet shadow's arms. A hopeful glow flashed in her
brilliant, jewel toned eyes beneath translucent skin. If the Formless One was
right, she'd see Mae again, however, an ominous warning was hinted at in the
prophetic words.
~A warning of what?~
Whatever the warning alluded to, she cared not. The petite would endure
whatever torture as long as she could be with her stormy eyed lover.
~For my Mae.~
Except, her green haired mate didn't have that strange, forbidden element about
her, nor could she unlock her secret places the way he did. By now, the
weaponized winter all but forgot about the "pretty one". The shadow remembered,
however, and remained true to his word of never staking a claim on her.
This particular day, the shadow's proclamation of love distracted her from her
"work" among many other thoughts. The horrified corpse stared at her, instinct
kicked in, and she ran from the horrific sight of her macabre artistry. She
paused when she caught a glimpse of silver from the corner of a panicked eye.
The strange glow of bright, innocent hunger with a deep sense of familiarity
regarding the silver in her sight made her think of a day from her past.
"You're pretty and your hair is soft, too. It looks like moonbeams."
Then, she remembered it was the silver haired reaper with the piercing,
phosphorescent eyes.
~Flawless beauty...But what is he doing here? Is it really him?~
She attempted to follow the glimpse of silver as she made her way to her next
"job", but it was gone. As she gave up her search and moved on, the distracted
petite sensed the Dispatch manager's cold eyes watching her from a hidden place
above her. His eyes became colder and harsher as he let jealousy, loathing
lust, and wrathful vengeance jump in with the disgust swimming in the golden
green pools of his eyes.
#I saw you looking at him.#
Pruning shears darted out from a rooftop, hitting a point on the ground where
it met the building perpendicular to it, thereby, blocking the petite's path
out of the alleyway. The bespectacled reaper gracefully jumped off the roof and
landed in front of her, swiftly pinning her to the wall with his Death Scythe.
"You disgusting abomination," the clean cut reaper seethed with ravenous hunger
for revenge glowing in double irises. "I saw you following him. Stay away from
him. You are nothing. You are an object. You are unworthy of any affection."
The cruel reaper's malicious backhand to her delicate face left her lying
prostrate at his feet. "Get up," he ordered. "I will not work overtime because
of you."
The petite slowly rose to her feet as the deplorable man walked away,
thankfully leaving her behind to nurse her wounds. She collapsed to the ground
again, drawing her knees to her chest as she wept in shame. "I am not your
object," she cried out to the fearsome reaper who wasn't there.
~I am an object.~
"I am worthy of affection!" she protested.
~Am I worthy of affection?~
Chapter End Notes
     Hopefully, you have read part 1, because, context.
***** Secrets *****
Chapter Notes
     January/Stella's innermost thoughts ~
     William T. Spears' Innermost thoughts #
     Hesse's innermost thoughts /
     Thanks for the reads! *smiles and waves*
     **New inner monologue! Yay!** Break time's over. This chapter is an
     assault to your senses. For example: suicide via mind control,
     implied rape, mention of self mutilation, passing mention of
     genocide, and mention of rape and stalking is contained herein.
     ***You have been warned!***
     Enjoy!
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Twin black eyes stared deep into the bald man's darkest places from the petite
in black. The motionless woman stood and stared, expressionless, pulling out
all of his dirty little secrets, resulting in the triggering of strange new
emotions.
~Do you miss her sweet caress? The nice girl from your childhood church?~ The
soft, airy voice's malicious sarcasm drilled into the dark parts, fishing for
the dirtiest secret he kept hidden.
"I don't know who you're talking about!" the balding man vehemently denied. He
puffed out his chest in feigned defiance, though the welling tears betrayed
him.
Expressionless black eyes studied the fake alpha male with internal amusement.
The violent winter watched his chest deflate and tears flow down his cheeks as
her soft, airy voice ventured deeper into the dark places.
~I believe you do. The cute little blond who led lonely little you on and left
you alone and rejected. Oh, but you just couldn't move on, now, could you?~
"Ok! Ok! I remember her!" he finally admitted. "So what if I lied? Are you
happy that I 'remembered', now? Can you just go away and leave me alone, you
freak!"
The stoic reaper's words rang like a church bell in the black clad female's
mind.
"...Your victims are waiting, you sick freak of nature."
Obsidian bled out from her irises, flooding the remaining surface of her eyes
until they resembled two empty sockets within the delicately structured face of
the lady in black.
~You became obsessed with her. You stalked her for months. No one believed her
when she claimed you were the one who stalked her like a predator does with
their prey. If only someone believed her.~
"I-I..." the middle aged stalker's eyes filled with regretful longing as he
trailed off.
~Then you raped her over and over again, and when you tired of her, you killed
her.~ The soft, airy voice rubbed the darkest, dirtiest secret in the sullied
man's face. ~So callous, so cold, so heartless. What an unclean beast you are.~
"I wasn't in my right mind back then," the bald, killer rapist excused. "I've
led a decent life since then."
~That sin cannot be erased by a moral life thereafter. I think it's time for
you to be punished for your sins.~
The male unconsciously cut his wrists with a pocket knife he always carried
with him. Ironically, it was a memento from the pretty blond he killed so long
ago in his youth.
~What was her name?~
The profusely bleeding man tore open his shirt and sloppily carved the name
'Mary' in jagged, bloody gashes on his abdomen.
~Show me.~
Blindly obeying the petite, the dying man plunged the knife deep into his
throat as a demonstration of his act of murder. Tears of regret flowed down his
face as he collapsed to his knees. The knife bobbed in his throat as he tried
to speak. "Who are you?"
~Just a friend.~ The soft, airy voice smugly echoed in his dying mind.
As the violating murderer drew his last breath, his hazel eyes widened in
horror as the petite's eyes reverted to their natural state of subtly glowing
emerald and sapphire with an equally horrified expression meeting his.
~Oh Goddess, I did it again! I became the involuntary death knell! Why does
this keep happening? I know I'm doing this, but why can't I remember?~
The lavender haired woman's instinct took over and she quickly darted from the
alleyway. She was unable to determine her surroundings through the monsoon of
guilt pouring from her glowing eyes. Something solid with a beautiful, soft,
silver cover on it blocked the confused, guilty, lavender lady's path,
consequently knocking her down to the cobblestone walkway.
~That scent is familiar somehow.~
Before the silver haired figure turned to face her, the experiment had already
scrambled to her feet and ran anywhere but within range of the vaguely familiar
waterfall of silver. The frightened female ducked into an alley between two
buildings, hoping the person she ran into hadn't followed her, however, an even
more frightening presence was looming over her crouched form. She knew it was
him-the stoic reaper-who had come to fetch her and do Goddess knows what kind
of perverse things with her. The quiet winter night rose to her feet with her
head bowed and mouth shut in cruelly conditioned submission. She fought to hold
back the tears she needed to shed. That silver hair with the somehow familiar
scent interrupted her much needed venting session.
~I'll save the rain of guilt for the sweet shadow and he'll surely rain kisses
on me...The sweet shadow, my sweet friend...~
#Can't this abomination do anything right? Now it is causing me to have more
overtime as well as that other freak, Sutcliff!#
"You were one minute late," the stoic manager spoke in a low, even, far too
calm tone. "This will cause me to have more overtime than necessary today."
"I'm sorry, Mr. Spears. I fell down while rushing to the rendezvous point," the
female meekly excused. "Please don't punish me. It will never happen again. It
was an accident."
"I do not accept excuses from walking property. I do not care if you are
bleeding to death, you will remain punctual," the Dispatch manager barked,
glaring pure hatred at the girl. "You will come with me when we return to the
realm," he ordered. The irate male forcefully grabbed the woman by the arm and
discreetly ported out of the mortal realm. As soon as they entered the reaper's
realm, the Rarity glanced at the terror inducing look in the emotionless
reaper's eyes and knew what was in store for her. She bowed her head, allowing
a curtain of lavender to conceal her pale face so she could let slip resigned
tears while she could.
~I am his object.~
                                    xxxxxx
The petite woke up bound to a table without feeling in her arms and
excruciating pain in a new place below her waist. Fabric was haphazardly tossed
over her small, nude body. At least the cruel reaper had the courtesy to leave
her only article of clothing behind. Irritated-no, angry-and impatient tapping
of stiletto boots garnered the Rarity's attention. An effeminate redhead stared
down at her with homicidal rage burning in toxic green catlike eyes.
"Just what the Hell do you think you were doing with my man?" the reaper with
the blood red mane demanded in a murderous, semi feminine voice.
Shameful tears sprang forth from mismatched eyes. "Object," she replied
timidly. "He says to obey or he'll kill Mae. I'm his-" A hard slap to the
shameful snowstorm's face immediately silenced her.
"That's not what it sounded like to me!" the jealous redhead retorted.
"Object," the female finished. "Please, let me go, miss..."
"Tch. Why? So you can go after my man? I don't think so!" The red reaper gave
the broken woman a once over as if she were sizing her up. With a sneer and
flip of long, red hair over the shoulder, the reaper huffed and exited the
room.
"Sutcliff, what business do you have in that room?" demanded a razor blade
voice just outside the door. The restrained petite hoped it was who she thought
it was.
"Nothing, sir," the redhead responded defiantly.
A brief silence passed before a set of stiletto heels was heard fading into the
distance as the door opened. The Rarity closed her eyes and prayed to the
Goddess that whoever it was that cut her restraints meant her no harm.
"My beautiful love, what happened to you?"
Broken lights gazed at the shadow who had come for her. "I-I was punished. How
did you know I-"
The gray haired reaper took her in his arms in a warm, comforting embrace. "You
were not at our meeting place, love, and your absence deeply disturbed me. I
felt it necessary to seek you out."
The experiment grazed her fingertips over the gray reaper's hand. "I'm
necessary?" she asked shyly with averted eyes.
"Of course you are, love. Let's go home and see to your injuries," he softly
assured with an equally soft kiss to the crown of her head.
As the Rarity dressed herself, her benefactor admired the expansive tattoo on
her back as he always does when it's on display. The shaking of her slumped
shoulders caught his attention. He knew she was afraid.
"My dress is broken," the weaponized midnight sun spoke with gradually building
anxiety overtaking the sadness in her glowing eyes. "The buttons...several of
them are missing. I'm sorry..." She hung her head, expecting punishment for the
ruined dress.
"It's only a dress, love," the unusual reaper cooed as he scooped the petite
into his arms. "There's no need to be upset. I'll never punish you.
/I love you too much to think of punishing you./
Let's go home and see to your needs, love."
"Hesse, it wasn't the redhead who punished me. She found me afterward."
"Love, the redhead is a man," the gray reaper corrected.
"The redhead is a woman born as a man. In my homeland, she'd look like me, only
she'd be biologically male. They were known as Transcendentals, the rarest of
the Rarities. The priestesses spoke of their genocide long ago which sparked a
war of retribution between our people and angels." The female yawned and
snuggled into the reaper's chest as he jumped from rooftop to rooftop on his
way home. "Please don't kill her, Hesse," she sleepily murmured.
"As you wish," he whispered. "Rest now, love, we're almost there." He glanced
down at blue and green glowing beneath translucent eyelids. "Gods, Stella, I
love you even if it shall forever remain unrequited."
                                    xxxxxx
The Gray Shadow woke when he felt his bed shift under his weight. He quickly
slipped on his rimless glasses and was close to summoning his Death Scythe
until he realized it was merely the Rarity who had crawled into bed beside him.
"You scared me, love," the reaper spoke in his best effort to calm his nerves.
The tattooed experiment gazed at the fine boned man with anxiety ridden eyes,
illuminating his haunting features. Tears welled in her eyes from the
unnecessary shadows cast over the angular planes of his face. She scooted
closer to him, eliminating the frightening shadows dancing on the reaper's
delicate features within the light of her eyes. "May I sleep with you tonight?"
she asked in a barely audible whisper. "My nightmares plague me. Unnecessary
shadows stalk me in my dreams. My memories evade me." The broken weapon's eyes
glistened with tears on the brink of falling to their own salty sweet demise.
"I wish Marcus would have killed me that day." Slender fingers lightly caressed
the experiment's face, sending little shivers down her spine. "Hesse, I..." she
trailed off, unable to express herself coherently.
"Of course you can, love," the sweet shadow cooed in the haunting voice he
reserved just for her. "Come here." The gray haired reaper gently pulled the
lavender ice into a warm embrace. "You've always been welcome to come to me,
Stella."
The crying woman in his arms slowly nodded. "I didn't want to keep being such a
burden on you."
"You've never been a burden to me." The gray reaper cupped the Rarity's face in
his hands and studied her mismatched, wavering lights with loving intensity.
"The sadness in your beautiful eyes is deeply distressing to me. I can tell the
nightmares have consumed you more and more over the years." Thin gray brows
furrowed together as the intensity of his eyes glazed over with tears ready to
sacrifice themselves for the love of a woman. "Whoever it was among my kind
that makes your eyes dark is devouring your spirit...to drive you to harm
yourself in such a way..." he observed, ghosting a fingertip over crescent
shaped cuts between her legs. "I love you and I always will. Let there be no
secrets between us, Stella."
"Shadows hide many secrets, Hesse."
"This is true."
The tattooed winter softly kissed the painful treasure in the unusual reaper's
left ear. His ancient heart raced as it always did under the soft feel of her
lips on the curved spike each time she blessed it with her divine kiss. She
whispered obscure words unique only to Rarities in his ear, the accent of which
unlocking his secret places. The shadow's high contrast eyes went wide when the
petite crawled on top of him and gripped his head at various pressure points
through gray waves. Her hypnotic lights bored deep into dark green and citrine
double irises.
~Let there be no secrets between us.~
The male carefully mimicked the Rarity's actions.
/I shall hold nothing back from you, my beautiful love./
Rarity and reaper came together in an invasive, ritualistic kiss. Images from
two distinct life stories played in a theater of shared consciousness. Both
fine boned beings pressed themselves together, deepening the kiss without
desecrating the ritual. Involuntary tears fell from two pairs of unique eyes
for different reasons as each individual tasted the other's secrets.
Upon completion of the ritual, the Gray Shadow tightly embraced the sobbing
experiment. "I am so sorry, my beautiful love," he whispered sympathetically
into her hair. "You are not Spears' object. I'm so sorry it's been him who has
been plaguing you for the last seven and a half years. I would gladly torture
him to death for you, but I do not wish to desecrate the laws of your faith."
The woman nodded into his chest.
"Look at me, Stella," the sweet shadow softly implored, tipping her head up
with moderate effort. He tilted his head to the side to meet her averted eyes.
"You're none of the cruel things the others say about you, my beautiful love.
I've always known."
Bewildered blue and green met dark green and citrine. "You...you truly don't
know what jealousy is. You truly have no possessive nature. You truly are an
unusual man."
"No, love, I'm a shadow. I'm everywhere and nowhere at once. I am a legend in
my own right. I am the first recycled suicide, the first reaper not created. I
simply wasn't given the same nature as Legendary Death when I became a reaper."
The petite giggled at the gray haired man's response. "You evaded the Divine!
You ass! You thought you could hide that from me!"
"I got you to laugh, didn't I?" The unusual reaper softly smiled at the
giggling Rarity. "You look stunning when you smile like that. Your eyes are lit
up so beautifully bright."
"You're smiling, too," the female pointed out, poking the other's cheek.
"So I am," he agreed.
The mischievous experiment snatched the shadow's glasses off his face and
slipped them onto hers. "Wow, you're blind as a newborn Rarity! At least we
gain vision within the first hour of life, but wow, it's true what they say
about reaper's eyes!"
"I need those, Stella," the gray reaper demanded lowly.
The lavender winter's eyes dimmed. "I just wanted to see what you look like
without your glasses. You wear them even when we're..."
"Making love..." he finished lowly.
"That's a colloquialism for it? I didn't want to be crude because you're my
friend and I love you as such." She sheepishly smiled and removed the reaper's
rimless glasses. "May I see what you look like without them?"
"By all means. All you had to do was ask, but I must admit, I like your
mischievous side. It's a ray of sunshine in this drab world we live in," the
Gray Shadow confessed, raising the winter storm's head up to meet his eyes.
"Don't cry, love."
"It's not that...It's just that, you're so beautiful," the awestruck woman
countered. "I've never seen a face like yours." Delicate fingers traversed high
cheekbones on a borderline androgynous face. "Androgynous while remaining
obviously masculine. Your eyes are wide and the contrast is higher in the dual
colors of your irises. The dark green is almost black and the citrine is a ring
of divine fire. The gray lashes framing your eyes make them all the more
hauntingly beautiful like a shadow in a storm."
A tinge of pink dusted the reaper's cheeks. "I don't believe I've ever heard my
eyes described in such a way."
"It's true," she whispered, her lips brushing his. "But you are beautiful
either way."
"Don't tease me, Stella. Not after this," the gray reaper softly pleaded.
"I've never teased you, Hesse. I'm glad you let me sate my hunger with you, so
why should I tease you? You provide me with everything I need, give me
everything I want, and do everything I wish within your power. Why would I lead
you on?" Her questioning eyes met his.
"After millennia of choosing not to feel, it's hard to adjust to-" The male was
cut off by winter's shockingly sweet kiss she knew he craved. His hands drifted
down her back in that certain way that unlocked her secret places as he drew
her closer. "I love you," he whispered into the kiss.
"I love you, too, as my most treasured friend," the experimental weapon
replied.
"Why must I love you the way that I do?" He slid his slender fingers through
lavender silk, eliciting a soft purr from the pacified petite. "Though, my love
for you remains unrequited, I can't help but be happy when I am with you," the
unusual shadow declared. His eyes met hers longing for his unrequited love to
be returned.
Brightly glowing, conflicted eyes peered up at the gray haired man. "Thank
you," winter weaponry replied with a soft kiss, sending little tremors down
both of their spines.
Chapter End Notes
     There, you got a sappy ending to the chapter.
***** Betrayal *****
Chapter Notes
     January/Stella's innermost thoughts ~
     May/Mae's innermost thoughts ^
     Hello, I'm back from the dead. Sorry it's been so long since my last
     update. I've been dealing with some stressful issues as of late. I'm
     not giving up on the fic, but updates may be slow due to these
     stressful issues in my life. Hopefully, they will be resolved soon so
     my updates will resume regularly as they did beforehand.
     This lovely chapter reads like a soap opera depending on one's
     perspective. Prepare yourself for mushy fluff, tear jerkiness, and
     heavy yuri with s & m. ***You have been warned.***
     Enjoy.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
The tattoo on the prototype's back always captivated the unusual reaper. He
admired the blue-gray eyeball serving as a clock face to disorganized, backward
dancing numerals with inverted hands. Somehow, the cruel identifier of the
eugenics program on the small of her back seemed to be one with the divine
painting taking up the whole of the female's back. The combination of the
backpiece and the frozen Danse Macabre was a literal prophecy etched on skin; a
Death Watch in full color. With the aid of his glasses, the gray reaper could
appreciate the fine lines and details of the subtle flames surrounding the iris
inhabiting the midst of the divinely bestowed skin art. An idea suddenly
occurred to the gray haired man as he admired the lavender beauty's divine
artwork permanently staining her soft skin. As he mulled over how to approach
her with the idea, he dared himself to lightly brush his fingertips down the
naked length of her back. He smiled when she flinched and squeaked in response
to his cold hands on her warm flesh.
"I would like to draw you, Stella," the shadow seductively whispered in the
experiment's ear. "That is, if you will permit me." He slowly coiled his arms
around the petite and held her close against his bare chest, awaiting an
answer.
Subtly glowing emerald and sapphire eyes peered up at the sweet shadow. A soft
smile graced her delicate features as she looked up at him. "Ok, Hesse. Are you
going to arrange my hair for me, too?"
"If that is what you wish," he replied with a soft kiss to the crown of her
head.
"It is."
"Then that is what I shall do."
According to her wishes, the Gray Shadow arranged lavender locks into a soft,
simple updo. He intentionally left random pastel strands hanging loosely about
her face. Her large, lupine eyes hungrily glowed as slender fingers almost too
delicate to belong to a male deftly worked pins into soft lavender. The
clinking of chains caught the female's attention, and when she turned to
question her benefactor about the sound, both he and it were gone.
Heterocromatic eyes dimmed as she faced forward again. A single, confused tear
trickled down her cheek without her permission. Unbeknownst to her, the chains
she once heard were silently becoming a beautiful, new ornamentation to finely
crafted lavender tresses. Cold metal dusting delicate shoulders jolted the
petite out of her confusion. She gasped in surprise when an ornate hand mirror
was thrust in front of her face.
"How do you like it?" the gray reaper asked the gloriously naked woman seated
before him. His dark green and citrine eyes held so much hope in them for her
approval it was almost pathetic. She was special to him, and because of that he
wasn't too proud to beg for her approval. But only from her.
"It's beautiful, Hesse! It's just like the headpieces the priestesses wore back
home. Did you make it?" The Rarity's inquisitive eyes met the ancient shadow's
high contrast gaze.
"I did," he confirmed. "Come with me."
The fine boned woman blushed and took the gray reaper's offered hand. She was
led to a room she had never been in before. In fact, she didn't know it
existed. The entire eight years she had resided in the high ranking reaper's
home, she had been up and down every corridor, in and out of every room, but
had never known of any secret places hidden within. "Your home is as unusual as
you are," the girl with the glowing eyes commented.
"A home must reflect its occupant. This is my 'secret place', and this is where
I wish to draw you."
"Ok."
The unusual shadow led the Rarity to a black fur rug in the center of the
secret room and gestured for her to sit down. He did likewise at the edge of
the rug where graphite and paper were waiting to be united. "I want you to pose
for me the way you always do when you watch me sleep," he requested.
Anxiety set in as she laid down and propped herself up on her elbow.
~The scars...~
As if reading her mind, the gray haired man quickly draped a soft piece of
black fabric over her midsection. "Thank you," she murmured.
The Gray Shadow hummed in response while studying his subject. "I want you to
turn your back to me and look over your shoulder, but keep the same pose," the
gray reaper instructed. "Conceal the harm done to you as you wish. What I want
is a representation of you as you are to me: provocative innocence, divinity,
Perfect Beauty."
The lavender petite did as she was instructed. She made one final adjustment of
the black fabric draped over her backside, satisfied that her scars were
sufficiently concealed. Chains clinked from the headpiece elegantly intertwined
with locks of lavender as she looked over her shoulder at the ancient. "I'm
ready."
The shadow smiled in response and got to work. The Rarity's naked glory was
captured in vivid detail within minutes; everything from the hair on her head
to the fine lines of her tattoo, and even every feminine contour of her small
frame. High contrast eyes darted back and forth between subject and object as
the reaper applied the finishing touches to his masterpiece. He admired the
object upon completion, satisfied with a job well done. "Would you like to
see?" the gray reaper asked the subject of his art.
"You're finished already?" the experimental weapon asked skeptically.
"I am."
The lavender winter eagerly approached her benefactor and admired his
handiwork. She peered up at him and noticed he wasn't wearing his glasses.
"It's wonderful," she softly complimented, eyes glazing over with tears. "How
did you draw me without-"
"I didn't," he interrupted. "Or else the object in my hand wouldn't bear the
same likeness as the sublime subject in my heart." The thin man gently cupped
the female's face in his hands and kissed away her tears. "Don't cry, my
beautiful love. You haven't any reason to shed tears."
"How did you know? You can't see, and I made no other indications."
"I always know when you are crying, even when we are parted from each other."
In spite of his severely blurred vision, the first recycled suicide still found
himself trapped in the Rarity's hypnotic, heterocromatic lights. "Though, I
cannot see you, I know that you are beautiful. Indeed, I am a lucky man to be
in the presence of perfection incarnate."
Pink spread over porcelain cheeks. "You ass! You flatter me so! I could say the
same for you. Your beauty, I mean," she quickly added. Winter weaponry closely
examined the borderline androgynous shadow's wide, dark green and citrine eyes.
The subtle glow of hers slightly dimmed as a pang of guilt hit her the longer
she stared into his openly emotive, high contrast eyes. "I wish I could return
the same love you have given me over the years. I really do. You've been so
good to me. You've done your best to protect me within the limits of your
power. Even in the depths of your sadism, you have never made me feel like an
object or made my eyes dark. Sometimes I wish you were the One the Goddess
intends for me, but I cannot stray from Her path lest I commit a grave sin. I
am so grateful for you; for your understanding, lack of jealousy and lack of a
possessive nature. I fear I wouldn't be able to tell you these things if you
were like the rest of your people. I love you as my most treasured friend,
Hesse. I hope we always stay friends." The petite wrapped her slender arms
around the unusual reaper and nuzzled her face in his hair. She purred as he
gently ran his fingers up and down her back. "You're so good at that."
"Stella, I'm happy as long as I'm with you," the sweet shadow reassured. "I
sincerely hope that one day you will find the love you are looking for even
though I could never be that one." Slender fingers almost too delicate to
belong to a male lightly caressed the winter storm's cheek. "Stella, my
beautiful love, I will always love you even though it shall always remain
unrequited." He looked down at the portrait of the Rarity he loved, a single
rogue tear rolled down his delicate cheek as he inaudibly whispered, "I take no
sides. Should I ever hurt you, it will deeply pain me for the remainder of my
existence." His eyes flicked back up to the petite. "Gods, Stella, your beauty
is subliminal," he declared, quickly turning the topic away from anything too
ominous. The gray haired man slowly drew the Rarity closer to him and ghosted
the tips of his fingers down her back. He inwardly smiled as she lowly moaned
in pleasure.
"You want to kiss me, don't you?" the weapon seductively whispered as she
crawled onto the high ranked reaper's lap.
"More than anything, if you will permit me."
"Have I ever turned you away from me?" Her eyes glowed with hungry innocence as
she locked her gaze onto the beautiful reaper at her mercy. "I always want you,
Hesse."
"I suppose I've never been turned away by you," he replied, his lips brushing
hers. "And the feeling is mutual. I always want you, and I always will."
Rarity and reaper collided in a shockingly sweet kiss borne of fire. Fingers
lost in lengthy gray waves and hands drifting down a tattooed back led to a
foray of smoldering passion. Sadist and masochist merged. Lavender and gray
became the forbidden keys unlocking each other's secret places.
~We are one...but we are not One...~
                                    xxxxxx
Violent words spoken by violent men demanded the return of the experiment to
her "rightful place" in the lab, no doubt for more violence to be meted out for
no reason other than fulfilling sick, violent urges. The bespectacled reaper
made his harsh demands for the Rarity's retrieval with forced respect while
still refusing to address her as a sentient being. The Dispatch manager's
monotone voice barely disguised the disgust felt for the Rarity as he spoke of
her, and his gray haired superior would have none of it.
"Spears! She is a Rarity! She is not a piece of property, an it, or a thing!"
his cold, razor blade voice snapped.
Deep, resonant, mocking laughter followed the sharp retort along with false
accusations of lavender whoredoms.
~I was unwillingly theirs. They defiled me since I was brought here as a child!
And that bastard...He knows my weakness and uses it against me. He knows my
secret hunger and objectifies me. He knows my obsession and exploits me. The
man in the suit with the strange weapon is the one whose painful touch brings
pleasure that makes my eyes dark. How I loathe him for it! He is cruelty
incarnate. William T. Spears is cruelty incarnate!~
The female's silent shame trickled down her pale face and soon evolved into
spasms of quiet weeping. Blood leaked from her bottom lip from biting herself
into silence every time the imposing ancient accused her of whoring herself out
to the rogue scientists.
~I was drugged! They defiled me!~
"Even I fucked it, and shit is that bitch frigid! Now you're fucking it! How
the fuck did you manage to thaw that thing out, Hesse?" the black haired reaper
mocked. "Dammit, don't tell me you love the bitch."
The terrifying wrath in the shadow's eyes answered his subordinate's mocking
question.
"Oh shit, you do love that big eyed thing, don't you? I simply can't believe
it. I never thought I'd see the day-"
"Shut the fuck up, Gaines!" the gray reaper growled.
Tears stung the perpetual cut on the weeping winter's lip she refused to stop
biting as the men continued arguing over her fate. She drew her knees up to her
chest and hid her face in utter shame and sadness. The din of her shameful
thoughts shut out the sound of her benefactor manifesting his Death Scythe and
"kindly" telling his subordinates to leave his home without her. The
humiliation screaming in her head also prevented her from hearing him enter her
room and feeling him envelope her in his dark embrace.
"You're none of those cruel things they said about you, my beautiful love. I've
always known. I've tasted your secrets and you've tasted mine. I know the ways
of your people. I know that you are not a whore. I know what happened to you
when you weren't with me was against your will," the shadow's haunting voice
cooed. "You're bleeding, love."
"How do you know?" the female demanded without looking up.
"I'm a reaper, love. I can smell it," he softly replied, laying a reassuring
hand over hers. "Let me see what happened." The softly sobbing woman
capitulated and allowed her benefactor to lift her head up to inspect the
bleeding wound on her lip. "My beautiful love, what did you do?" the shadow
inquired, sympathetic eyes trained on the blood still leaking from the tender
flesh.
"I...They said such cruel lies about me. It hurt and I had to keep quiet."
Fresh tears poured down the petite's flushed face in heavy torrents, some
landing on her lips as she spoke. "Then the 'Evil One' said such cruel things
about my love..."
"Don't cry, love," the shadow cooed, kissing away the Rarity's tears.
~Why does he have that strange look in his eyes?~
The gray haired reaper's eyes stayed hooked on the lavender winter's bleeding
lip, flashing with their own secret hunger. His hands unconsciously cupped the
female's face, closing the distance between them, and stopped just short of his
secret desire. "If you will permit me, I would love nothing more than to kiss
you," his haunting voice softly implored as his soft lips ghosted over hers.
The female gave a small nod of consent. "Thank the gods for beauty such as
yours." The ancient shadow was pure seduction as he slowly ran his tongue over
the Rarity's bottom lip, taking every last crimson drop the wound had to offer
before kissing her with furious, burning desire. "You taste like sweet, fiery
poison, my beautiful love. Gods, I love you." The reaper captured her soft lips
in another fiery kiss and let slip a pained tear because he knew that day had
come all too soon. The day he wished would never come. The day he had to hurt
the one he loved.
                                    xxxxxx
A familiar burst of spring greeted winter outside the nondescript white
building standing apart from its peers. The women took advantage of the hour
alone they were granted by the sweet shadow. Sweet kisses led to the warmth of
spring melting the icy winter. The green haired weapon hurriedly undressed her
lover, famine evident in her eyes. The spring experiment pinned her mate to the
grassy knoll, intent on dominating her. Winter weaponry wrapped her slender
legs around the green petite's waist and pulled her down so their bodies were
pressed together. The small hands of each woman simultaneously explored the
body of the other as they hungrily kissed each other. Again, the green haired
woman pinned the prototype to the ground, bent on dominating her, and this time
she let it happen.
^I've been famished for you, Stella.^
~I know.~
Two pairs of heterocromatic eyes gazed into each other with rabid ferocity.
^I want you now. I want to take you.^
~Take me as I want to be taken. Sate my secret hunger.~
^I know, and I will to the best of my ability.^
~That's all I ask.~
Round, mismatched, feral eyes fiercely glowed as the green haired petite
wrapped her delicate hand around the other woman's throat and squeezed with
enough pressure to keep her at the precipice of unconsciousness while she
explored her hidden place with her free hand. Green weaponry drifted bruised
bites down the slimmer woman's neck. Her delicate fingers wandered from her
throat into lavender tresses and pulled back hard, eliciting a loud yelp.
Spring's wrath yanked the violent winter into a sitting position by her hair
and turned her over on her belly, admiring the tattoo bestowed upon her by
their Mistress. A sly smile crept over her face as an interesting idea came to
mind.
"Come with me, Stella," the dominant Rarity ordered. The lavender weapon
complied and followed her lover to a willow tree further down the grassy knoll.
A sturdy, low hanging branch was perfect for the green petite's needs. A stick
nearby would also serve her well for her plans. "Put your hands up." The
lavender haired woman obeyed. The voluptuous petite used her white gown to bind
her lover's wrists to the branch overhead. A sadistic grin spread over her full
lips. "Are you ready?" she whispered seductively to the bound winter weapon as
she teased her with the improvised switch.
"Yes. Do it, Mae. I've been waiting for years for you to do this to me," she
moaned.
Spring unleashed her wrath on winter with great fervor. Skin split and healed
itself each time she was whipped with the improvised switch. She cried out in
pleasure as her secret hunger for pleasurable pain was sated by the one she
loved. "Oh Goddess, Mae! Harder! Harder!" the masochistic Rarity demanded.
"There's so much blood already, Stella," the other petite responded. "I can't
go on hurting you like this. I would rather taste you. That is what I have been
missing for so long."
"Then, do it!" the prototype growled. "Get on your knees and do it!" The feral
petite narrowed her large, lupine eyes at her obedient lover. Although she was
still bound, it was now she who was in control. A low, pleasured moan escaped
the icy weapon's lips as her lover slid her delicate hands up the back of her
thighs. She hoisted the prototype's legs over her shoulders as she knelt down
between them. Spring partook of winter's hidden treasure within her hidden
place, slowly at first, then gradually picking up the pace. One finger, then
two, explored winter's hidden place in tandem with soft nibbles and flicks of
the tongue in oscillating variants of pressure as spring gradually brought her
to her climax. With her free hand, the green haired petite twisted lavender
tresses around her fist and yanked the woman at her mercy's head back as she
continued to indulge in her sweetness. She pulled harder, and as she did so,
the lavender weapon's legs trapped her lover's neck in a vice like grip as she
unlocked her secret places.
"Our hour is almost up. Hesse said to meet at the back of the library," the
blissful snow flurry reminded her petite lover as they hastily dressed
themselves.
The petite experiments happily rushed to the appointed place with excited glows
in their eyes, expecting to meet the sweet shadow. Their eyes dimmed and the
joy of the past hour vanished when they were confronted with the unholy trinity
of cruelty. They looked around in disbelief, but the shadow was indeed replaced
by the trio waiting to take them away. The Rarities clung to each other, eyes
wide in fear, as the stoic reaper stared down at them with equal parts contempt
and repulsion.
~He betrayed me, Mae. He betrayed us.~
^After all this time. Why? He promised not to punish you. May the Goddess curse
them all! They all have beautiful eyes that lie! Every single one of them!
Every Goddess forsaken reaper have eyes that lie! Even the stupid 'pretty
one'!^
~Mae, I don't know who you're talking about.~
^Stella...^
~Mae...It doesn't matter. The Goddess will have Her vengeance in due course.
Everyone who transgressed us will pay.~
"Both of you were thirty seconds late," the cold reaper stated, sending tidal
waves of fear through the women. "Each of you will go with one of them. Now!"
he ordered harshly, jabbing them with his pruners as though he were herding
cattle. "Hurry up! You're causing me to have more overtime that I don't need
right now. Honestly!"
~I was Hesse's object all along. At least he treated me like I had some value,
but still, I was his object. Am I her object, too?~
Chapter End Notes
     Heterocromia = eyes consisting of two different colors (mismatched
     eyes). There are different variants of the condition. It can also
     affect the hair or skin. Google it to see images of the eyes. They're
     pretty.
***** Brokered *****
Chapter Notes
     January/Stella's innermost thoughts ~
     May/Mae's innermost thoughts ^
     William T. Spears' innermost thoughts #
     Hesse's innermost thoughts /
     Yurei/Ikiryo's thoughts/communication =
     I have risen from the dead once again. Stressful events are ever
     consuming my life at this time, so I'm sorry about the slow updates.
     Thanks for reading this dark drama.
     *Grell is referred to in the male pronoun during certain
     perspectives, in all others, the preferred female pronoun will be
     used.*
     This chapter contains explicit objectification of women, including
     humiliation, and implied trafficking depending on one's perspective.
     ***You have been warned.***
     Enjoy.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Under the hateful glare of the stoic reaper, the frightened females were
scrutinized like items up for bid on the auction block by the rogue
eugenicists. The irritated reaper held them by their lengthy hair, preventing
them from concealing their exposed female forms.
"I want the 'frosty' one," the blond scientist declared with cheerful sadism
dancing in his bright blue eyes.
"In that case, I'll take the one with the tits," the dark haired eugenicist
crooned with a wheezy chuckle. "Nice and firm." Blue eyes burned with sadistic
lust as he squeezed one of the green haired petite's ample breasts.
"She doesn't have much, 'Doc', but she'll be fun to play with, especially those
oversized eyes. I can try out those new probes I built," the blond pointed out
to his peer in reference to the prototype.
"Hmm...sounds interesting." The dark haired rogue looked thoughtful for a
moment. "Mr. Glass, are you up for swapping every once in a while?"
"I've no problem with that. I have toys for 'greenie', too," the blond replied
with a sickeningly sadistic grin.
Both Empaths set their eyes on the pruner wielding manager, glowing blue
housing ulterior motives. "Mr. Spears, we may require your...services for our
swaps so our lovely little experiments don't get any funny ideas," the dark
haired rogue drawled out with an ever widening grin. "Mr. Glass and I are in
different departments, after all."
The black haired reaper's eyebrow twitched in irritation. "May I remind you
that your 'play toy' is also my boss' 'play toy', 'Doc'. I will not be
responsible for any damage done to it. I prefer to keep my job."
The eugenicist snickered in response. "Oh yes, how could I forget, Mr. Spears.
I wouldn't want to fuck up our boss' precious 'play toy' too much. You are
aware he does punish her if she fucks up, and as a result, she comes here to
play. Furthermore, Mr. Spears, I am at liberty to do as I please with the
weapons."
"It's called research," the blond piped in.
"Besides, I know how to handle the boss' favorite toy, Spears. So, what do you
say?"
The irritated reaper scowled at the grinning Empaths as he weighed his options.
This would be more work he didn't need. He had his management duties at
Dispatch as well as his required duties with the project. To top that off, the
red reaper was everywhere he went. The redhead already caused him to have
unnecessary overtime at his regular job as it is. Now he was stuck with the
reaper in red all day, every day since the sentence was passed for a killing
spree unleashed on mortals not on the To-Die list.
#Honestly, Hesse should have just thrown Sutcliff in the asylum where he
belongs. I see no logic behind offering him a choice of punishment.#
As the stoic manager continued to consider the proposal, he realized there was
more benefit in it for himself than he thought. Despite the "extra work", he'd
get away from the clingy, red reaper and he'd have more opportunity to whet his
thirst for revenge on the abomination he loathed more and more each time he
beheld it. "How often will you be requiring my services?" he asked coolly.
"Hm, once a week depending on how long the boss' toy is here," the black haired
Empath responded. "I get her one week, Glass gets her the next and so on. It'll
be for a day, of course."
"Yes," the blond agreed. "Remember, 'Frosty's' my toy, though, so don't rough
her up too much. Leave that to me." A possessive glint sparkled in his eye as
he warned the dark haired men.
"That is satisfactory. I will pick each thing up individually and bring them to
you," the reaper agreed.
#I'll conduct my own 'research' on that ugly lab rat.#
"Sounds fair," the dark haired eugenicist conceded. His partner nodded in
satisfaction as they separated with their respective weapons in tow.
~Mae!~
^Stella!^
                                    xxxxxx
The gray haired reaper sat in his study alone for the first time in eight years
after bargaining away the Rarity's life. He entrusted the perverts and his
subordinates to allow her access to her mate and her modest clothing when she
went out into the field. It's not like he had a choice in the matter, but he
had to do something to ease his conscience.
"It was my choice to let her in," he reasoned with himself. "It's for the
advancement of the project and her skills are honed to their finest. She needed
encouragement, which I gave, and now she can function as she was meant to," he
further reasoned. The reaper's hand wandered up to the unique piercing in his
left ear as he thought of her. A tear escaped his eye without his permission as
he remembered that day.
                                    xxxxxx
The Rarity's twentieth year had just arrived and she was quite excited to share
it with her benefactor. It was one of the extremely rare days when she was in a
genuinely good mood. The Gray Shadow came home with a terrifying look in his
eyes, but upon seeing the chipper Rarity smiling brightly on his sofa, the
terror in his eyes melted away.
"You look so lovely when you smile like that, love. I don't believe I've ever
seen you look quite so bright," the male complimented. "Ah, it's the dawn of
your twentieth year. I'm quite sorry that I neglected to get a gift for you."
The smiling female waved off the reaper's apology. "Your friendship and
kindness is gift enough for me, but I do have a gift for you. Come, sit." She
excitedly gestured to the cushion next to her.
The gray reaper obliged and set himself next to the scantily clad Rarity. "Are
you wearing my decor?" he asked, trying to stifle a laugh.
"Yes." The female blushed in embarrassment. "I'm sorry I broke my gown," she
gestured to the makeshift gossamer skirt that was once a gown tied around her
waist. "And I'm sorry I broke your Bird of the Eyes." Her eyes flitted to a
destroyed stuffed peacock in the corner of the room.
"You mean peacock?" He grazed a finger over the makeshift chest piece.
"I guess so, I mean, it's the wrong colors and the eyes are a bit wrong, but
it'll have to do. I couldn't find anything for a proper headdress or a choker
with long strings. I'm giving you something in the way of my people, so I'm
sorry I broke your things for my ritual," the woman said apologetically. "Will
I be punished?" Sadness began dimming the brightness in the heterocromatic eyes
the reaper came home to.
"No, my beautiful love, I will never punish you." The shadow lightly caressed
the prototype's face. "You look incredible clothed in my decor. They are merely
material objects; you aren't and neither is your ritual," he said softly,
brightening her eyes again. "Tell me what it is you're going to give me."
The exotic woman produced a crudely made hollow needle and curved spike. "In my
homeland, we would pierce the left ear of the person-a friend-we considered
close to the heart," she happily explained. "Would you accept my gift of
friendship?"
It was the shadow's turn to the blush. Taking the female's hands in his, he
looked her in her glowing eyes and smiled. "I'd be honored, my beautiful love."
The experiment joyfully squealed in thanks, then eyed the male's finely
tailored clothes. "You'll need to remove your shirt. There will be blood," she
advised, holding up the hollow needle. The reaper didn't need to be told twice
as he quickly removed the top half of his ensemble. "This is going to hurt,"
the lavender winter warned.
"I don't mind, love."
The Rarity straddled the reaper and held the hollow needle against the top of
his left ear in preparation for the ritual. The Gray Shadow drifted his
fingertips down her fiery skin, sending lightning bolts travelling up and down
his spine. Her body heat had always been unusually high for her kind, but
today, she was fire in his hands, and he couldn't love her more.
"Kiss me," she ordered. "I mean, really kiss me."
The unusual reaper gladly obliged and kissed the strange eyed beauty with every
ounce of passion he could muster. He slid his slender fingers through pastel
tresses, cupping the back of the exotic petite's head, feeling her, tasting
her, loving her. Two burning punctures leaking blood from his left ear made him
moan lowly. A swift, cold, sliding stab of the curved spike being inserted
caused him to draw the woman closer, relishing the painful pleasure of her
people's ritual. Strange words unique only to Rarities were whispered in his
ear-words even he didn't understand in all his vast knowledge of her culture.
"I love you, Stella," the reaper said softly as he pulled away. "Thank you."
                                    xxxxxx
The bewildered expression on the speechless Rarity's face would forever be
etched in the unusual reaper's memory every time his hand drifted to the ear
piercing. The look clearly expressed to him that it was the first time in her
life that she could remember being thanked for anything. A few more tears
rebelliously slipped down his cheeks. "I take no sides," he rationalized with
himself. "Therefore, I have done no wrong. It's for the benefit of my kind-our
kind-to rid ourselves of vermin. When they're eliminated, I'll free her and she
can do as she pleases. If anyone objects, I will kill them." The shadow's
anguish began to slowly consume him every time he thought of how he betrayed
her.
/I love her so much, I wish I didn't feel. All this time I begged her not to
lead me on, but in the end it was I who led her on./
                                    xxxxxx
A blond haired, blue eyed sadist shuffled about a disorganized lab full of
metal singing a sick song no one cared about as the petite bitterly slumbered
with neon pink poison pumping through her veins. She could vaguely sense
another far more sadistic presence enter the room as she laid powerless against
them on a cold, metal exam table. She knew it was the clean cut reaper who had
come to cut a deal with her current tormentor. The experiment couldn't make out
what they were saying, but she had the distinct feeling that the stone faced
manager was brokering a deal with the rogue blond to have his own personal time
with her in order to mete out his revenge. She could sense two pairs of eyes
roving over her nude body; one pair a glowing, lusty malicious blue, and the
other, double irises of green and gold vengeful, power hungry lust swirling in
pure hatred. The cruel men looked at her, then at each other, and verbally
sealed the deal. The weaponized winter felt lower than a mere object. She was
chattel sold to the highest bidder; the use of her body brokered in backroom
deals by sadistic perverts, liars with beautiful eyes and gentle touches, and a
cold, hateful master of cruelty obsessed with revenge for a wrong never done.
~I am an object. I am their object. Unwillingly theirs for all time. I am
undeserving of love and undeserving of affection. I am nothing.~
=I am me. Open your mind and understand. Open your ears and hear. Open your
eyes and see. We are independent, but work as one. I am not an object. You are
you.=
Chapter End Notes
     The anguish the shadow suffers is immense! How it will consume him
     so! How tragic!
***** Exception *****
Chapter Notes
     January/Stella's innermost thoughts ~
     Emily's innermost thoughts +
     Hi, thanks for stopping by to read my fun, dark, twisted tale of
     twisted darkness. Hopefully, you've read part 1 for context.
     Enter our albino friend, Emily (the Prophet from part 1). She'll be
     playing a larger role from now on. *Albinism in her race is not the
     same as humans, so she can have green eyes instead of the standard
     red or other variants common to albinism.*
     This chapter contains blood and gore and suicide via mind control.
     ***You have been warned.***
     Enjoy!
~I am not your 'little girl'. I bet you say that to all the little ones you
like to violate, hm?~ The lavender ice storm stood motionless, expressionless
with her delicate hands hanging limply by her sides as her soft, airy voice
stabbed the dirty pervert's subconscious.
"What are you doing in there?" he screeched.
~Perhaps you should have asked yourself the same thing every time you stole a
little girl's innocence.~
The child rapist's eyes went wide in terror as the petite's black irises seemed
to bleed out into the rest of her eyes. "What the fuck!"
~I bet you like to hurt little girls because mommy didn't love you. That's
right, she loved your little sister much more than you. Each little one is an
effigy of the sister you hate.~ The soft, airy voice firmly planted in the
man's filthy mind suddenly filled with vitriolic hatred as she conveyed her
subconscious message. Her cold, black pits seemed to glint with self
satisfaction in the setting sun. She had successfully broken the previously
unrepentant man who dropped to his knees begging her forgiveness. ~I show no
mercy. Don't speak to me.~
The male's hand obeyed the winter's cold command and traveled to his mouth.
Against his will and under her control, he tore out the lying tongue
responsible for all the atrocities done unto those he traumatized. "Oo ah u?"
he questioned through an oral crimson geyser.
Obsidian pits bored into the evil man's crying eyes. ~Just a friend. And you,
my friend, have a heart of darkness. I think it's time for you to have a good
look at it. Be merciful to yourself and excise the evil. Allow light to enter
your being.~
At the black ice's cryptic command, the destroyer of young girls repeatedly
stabbed himself in the chest. Just at the moment of death, ribs cracked open
and as predicted by the lady in black, light flooded in on the dark cavern
housing his malevolent heart. He knew it was her doing. He knew it was she who
was forcing him to watch his dark heart beat erratically before she ripped it
from his chest cavity, thus snuffing out his pathetic life. He knew it was her
that was his end.
~I am Vengeance.~
Those were the last words engraved in the perverted bastard's mind as he faded
from this mortal coil.
"Sweet merciful Death! That girl is capable of that!" the redhead gasped as she
observed the bloodthirsty sadism unfold before her eyes. "That gray haired
asshole was right. Not even I could think of something that sadistic." A
bloodcurdling scream knocked the redhead out of her self musings. It was time
for the final collection outside that of her normal shift.
~Not again. Not again.~
The roar of a chainsaw slicing through flesh prevented the frightened, confused
petite from retreating into the shadows. "How boring," a semi feminine voice
stated blandly. "Another goddamn pervert. Just how many are there in this city?
Disgusting."
"I couldn't agree more," the lavender haired woman murmured as she watched the
mangled rapist's Cinematic Records play before herself and the red reaper. She
quickly clamped a hand over her mouth, hoping the crimson haired soul collector
didn't hear her soft musing of agreement.
~Shit, I forgot they have sharp hearing.~
The icy petite instinctively crouched down and squeezed her glowing eyes shut
in fear of the redhead's wrath.
The tip of a stiletto boot nudged the crouched form shaking in the shadows. "So
you agree, hm?"
The female nodded without looking up. "A-are you going to punish me?"
"Huh?" the redhead seemed to be genuinely confused with the petite's line of
questioning.
The experiment lifted her head slightly, her tearful, glowing eyes meeting
catlike, toxic green, double irises of Red Death. "Are you going to punish me
like the other one does?"
The chainsaw wielder rolled her eyes behind stylish, red framed glasses. "No,
I'm not going to punish you. It's not worth my time." She flipped her hair over
her shoulder and narrowed her toxic double irises at the cowering petite. "You
saw that pervert's records, didn't you?" the redhead inquired suspiciously.
"Yes," the broken woman squeaked. "I can see what you see. Please don't punish
me for it. I won't-"
"Quit crying!" The red reaper sharply cut off the weapon's frantic pleas. "Who
taught you to do that?"
"I was born with the gift to see what you see. I'm the only one of my race who
can."
"Is that why all the fossils are obsessed with your eyes?"
Winter shrugged. "I suppose so, but I think they see me as more of an object
than anything else. As long as I can be with her..." Tears formed in the
corners of the experiment's eyes.
The redhead felt a twinge of sympathy for the sad, cowering woman at her feet,
though she would never admit it to anyone. She knew who the petite meant when
she referred to the "other one" in terms of meting out punishment. The redhead
was still holding out hope that the cold hearted brute would return her love,
therefore, any sympathy she felt for the experiment was buried deep inside a
secret pit of denial. The red reaper kept telling herself that even though the
stoic reaper was abusive to both herself and the prototype, it was actually the
latter who deserved the abuse. Deep down, however, the effeminate reaper knew
better, but chose to live in a perfumed land of delusion.
"Miss Sutcliff, I think your hair is pretty," the winter weapon said shyly.
"It's so vivid. You are a woman born as a man. You are a perfect blend of fire
and blood. Death incarnate adorned with a diadem of fiery passion." The
prototype rose to her feet and allowed her delicate hands to traverse the
length of the stunned red reaper's arms. Her fingers laced through those of the
reaper's as the glow of her eyes intensified. "You radiate such magnificent
physical power from these pretty hands. Why do you not destroy he who despises
you?" The petite trapped the redhead in an intimidating, mismatched glare. "He
will never love you. The only one he thinks of lower than you is me." Ice
released fire from her grasp. "I miss Mae..." she mumbled. Silent tears escaped
large, lupine eyes as the winter weapon sunk back down to the dirty ground
below.
~Red Death is the exception.~
The bewildered red reaper knew the winter of mass destruction was right, but
she couldn't find the right-or even wrong-words to say to confirm or deny her
charges. "You mean the girl with the curly, green hair?" the chainsaw wielder
asked. The petite slowly nodded. "So...you're her girlfriend?" the reaper
pressed.
"Yes," the weapon confirmed.
"Then, why were you alone in a room with my man that day?" the red reaper
snapped.
"He said if I don't obey, he'll kill Mae. He said I am an object-his object-
unworthy of love or affection." The broken woman collapsed in on herself with
her head in her hands. Conflicted, shameful sadness poured out of shattered
jewels. "I'm sorry, Miss Sutcliff...He knows my secret hunger and objectifies
me. He knows my weakness and uses it against me. He knows my obsession and
exploits me. His painful touch brings pleasure that make my eyes dark. I hate
him! I'm so sorry, Miss Sutcliff. All the time he punishes me in that way. No
matter what I do, I am punished. I'm sorry." Broken heterocromatic lights
peered up at the redhead. "He said I stole the 'pretty one'...I don't remember
him anymore." The reality confused female drew her legs to her chest and began
muttering prayers in a dead language, eyes flashing between melancholy and
paranoia.
Red Death cocked a hip. "January!" she shouted, silencing the petite. "I still
think you're after my man. I'll do you a favor, though, just because I like
your work. I'm going to take you to see Emily."
The shaking petite looked up at the scowling reaper. "I'd like to see her
again."
"Let's get a move on. I don't feel like getting stuck with overtime on my
regular shift. Oh, and don't talk to me on the way there. Got it." The red
reaper narrowed her toxic green eyes at the girl, flashing a warning of
merciless death upon disobedience.
"Yes, Miss Sutcliff," she respectfully complied.
                                    xxxxxx
The albino eugenicist and the chainsaw wielding reaper stood apart from the
Rarity discussing amongst themselves her behavior out in the field. The redhead
confided in her friend everything she and the petite spoke of while on
assignment. A furious green light blazed in the albino's eyes as she admonished
the effeminate reaper for allowing her jealousy to cloud her judgement. The two
friends glared at each other until the redhead finally conceded to the
scientist's demands. As the taller beings approached, the prototype curled in
on herself in fear of the hot tempered redhead's wrath.
"Do you see what I mean, Em?" Red Death huffed. "I only slapped her across the
face once and it was on that day. Other than that, I have never assaulted her
in any way. I've never even called her names."
"Nevertheless, she's afraid of you."
"Then, how does that explain-"
"Because your hair is beautiful," the Rarity softly interjected. "And because
you are the exception amongst your people. A woman born as a man. The rarest of
the Rarities."
The redhead furrowed her brows in an expression of confusion. "What does she
mean by all that, Em?"
"If you were one amongst our race, you would be what was known as a
Transcendental-the rarest of the Rarities." The albino sighed and further
explained. "All Rarities are biologically female, whereas, Transcendentals are
biologically male. Both Rarities and Transcendentals possess the attributes of
each sex of our race. Male Empaths have telekinetic power and females have
empathic power. Neither can possess the other. Only in bonding can two minds
link. However, Rarities can link with any mind at any time without having to
bond. Furthermore, once an infant Raritiy gains sight in the dawn of her life,
her telekinetic power exceeds that of the strongest males of our race and her
empathic powers exceed those of the females. This applies to the
Transcendentals as well. They are born sterile and are afforded a lifespan
stretching to near immortality because of their power," the rogue albino
concluded.
The redhead eyed the lavender haired woman sitting silently in an office chair,
twirling a strand of hair around her finger. "So are they born
without...parts?"
"They still have reproductive organs, but they are essentially nonfunctional.
In Transcendentals, however, reproductive organs are nonexistent. In fact,
there's no evidence suggesting that there has ever been any, which leads me to
believe that they were created that way. Additionally, Transcendentals have two
hearts." The albino glanced at the experiment, then turned her attention back
to her friend. "You know my trade is in biology. I only do engineering when I'm
bored."
Red Death crossed her arms over her chest. "Anyway, I have nothing to apologize
for," she said, abruptly changing subjects. "I get the point, but I'm not the
one who abuses her, so I owe her nothing."
"You're a bitch to her," the female scientist pointed out.
The reaper in red rolled her eyes. "I'm a bitch to everyone."
"Grell-"
"Go on, ask her yourself if I abuse or insult her. If she says yes, I'll
apologize."
The unusually tall Empath knelt down in front of the winter of mass
destruction. "January," she spoke softly. "Does Miss Sutcliff speak the truth?"
~You are not like them, but not like me. I do not want to speak aloud.~
+Very well. Does Miss Sutcliff speak the truth?+
~Yes, Miss Sutcliff's words are true. I only wish she would be kind to me.
Though she hit me only once after I was punished, I am still afraid that in her
anger she may hit me again. She doesn't know she is still alive because I
willed it.~
+By not destroying her?+
~No.~
+How?+
~The shadow came and was angered that she didn't free me from my bonds. At
first, he thought it was she who punished me, but I corrected him. On the way
home I entreated him not to kill her-~
+Because she reminds you of the Transcendentals?+
~Yes. I asked him once more while he was tending to my injuries. I saw
murderous wrath in his beautiful eyes, but, still, he swore not to kill her.~
Tears began to well in the experiment's eyes. ~Wrath and...~
+And, to him, the purest form of love. The kind that knows no possession.+ The
older Empath wiped away the younger's rebel tears. +He still loves you, Stella.
If only you knew of his-+
~I don't care! His beautiful eyes lied!~ The petite suspiciously eyed the
albino. ~Are you the Prophet?~
The eugenicist closed her mind to the Rarity and switched back to spoken
conversation. "Confirm aloud that Grell is speaking the truth." Emerald eyes
glinted with a hint of intimidation with the sharp command.
Blue and green glared back at the other female. "Miss Sutcliff speaks the
truth."
The impatient reaper flipped her hair over her shoulder. "I told you so," she
reaffirmed. "And I still don't owe you anything!" she spat at the winter
weapon. "Em, I have reapings I need to get to and I'm late to my regular
shift."
The scientist pinched the bridge of her nose in irritation. "Go on, I'll take
care of it. You know that asshole can't resist me." After the red reaper bid
her goodbye, she turned her attention back to the weapon. "It's better that you
stay focused on your survival, Stella. There are those of us here that want you
alive for the right reasons and there are those who want you alive for the
wrong reasons. As for me, I am not your concern."
"Emily, how did you know about the shadow?"
"I have known him for a very long time. Though, he doesn't show it, his anguish
is deep. He is sincerely penitent for his sin," the green eyed woman revealed.
"Even if he wanted to, he can't stop loving you, Stella. You are his Alpha and
Omega."
The petite's heterocromatic eyes glazed over with tears of angry sadness. A
strange, unwanted sense of longing overcame her as she remembered the few times
she beheld his true beauty. "Even though he hurt me and the thought of him
kindles my wrath, I still can't avoid the fact that he is beautiful, especially
his eyes."
"That is true, Stella. He is indeed a beautiful man."
"You don't understand, Emily." Broken lights shone with unfamiliar tears. "You
say you've known the shadow for a very long time."
The abnormally tall Empath gave a quizzical look to her shorter counterpart.
"That's right," she confirmed.
"Emily, I have seen his true beauty. I have tasted his secrets and he has
tasted mine. We held nothing back from each other. I know him, Emily. I loved
him as my dearest friend and that's why it hurts...why it still hurts...." she
trailed off as she hung her head. "He was so kind to me. He never punished me,
even when I broke his expensive things. He just brushed it off and said I could
do no wrong in his eyes. If that's true, why am I here? Why am I being
punished? Why did he lie? He was supposed to be my friend."
The eugenicist observed the conflicted lights in the weapon's eyes as she
lamented the betrayal suffered at the hands of the Gray Shadow.
+She is the exception. She does not yet know that.+
Remembering to keep her mind closed to the petite, the white haired woman
embraced her and whispered kind words in her ear in the Empath's common tongue.
She was careful not to slip into the ancient dialect so as to not rouse any
further suspicion. "He didn't want any of this, Stella."
"Do you know why he kissed my face when I cried?" the icy weapon sniffled.
"No, I don't understand that peculiarity about him. You really are the first
person he chose to feel with. He wasn't lying to you."
"But his eyes..." she trailed off, bowing her head. "They aren't like the
other's who I can't remember. But the shadow's eyes are so beautiful...like
toxic storms..."
***** Pain *****
Chapter Notes
     January/Stella's innermost thoughts *
     William T. Spears' innermost thoughts #
     Hesse's innermost thoughts /
     Thanks for reading my wonderful tale of fun darkness. Yay! Sorry it's
     been taking forever to update. Adulting sucks. Those of you who
     aren't stuck with bills to pay, relish in your freedom while it
     lasts. Anyway, enough with the pity party.
     This chapter is OC-centric, but I have my reasons, some of which were
     stated in part 1, which I hope you read for context, and will be
     revealed later.
     This chapter contains blood, guts, gore, and dismemberment,
     cannibalism, mentions of genocide and rape. For the romantically
     dejected, prepare your angry tears for bittersweetness. This chapter
     is painful in more ways than one. **You have been warned.**
     Enjoy.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
The experiment knew that she wasn't alone in the room. She couldn't see through
the opaque, black cloth covering her eyes, but she knew they were still there
with him watching her writhe like a worm on a hook from the manacles suspending
her from the ceiling in another sterile "white room". She knew her day of
torture had only just begun. Random projectiles shot at her from random
directions left her body bruised, the scourge ripped her skin only for her
tormentors to watch it heal again, and punishment...
~All the time, always this punishment. Why? Because I don't react the way they
expect me to? I know why the other punishes me...I am his object. But the
others...their punishments aren't the same anymore.~
Mocking laughter floated through the air, announcing the arrival of the black
haired upper manager. A set of lighter footsteps moving in tandem with jingling
chains bouncing off of leather boots heralded the entry of the gray reaper. She
could feel his high contrast eyes studying her compromised form as the other
males kept walking to their destination behind the glass.
"Oh gods, Hesse, when will you get over that thing?" the ponytailed manager
huffed.
"Why is she chained up like this?" the gray haired reaper demanded icily.
"It's restrained in such a manner to prevent its escape, sir," the lower ranked
manager replied as he adjusted his glasses with the tip of his Death scythe.
"Unchain her," the gray reaper ordered. He glared dark wrath at the Dispatch
manager as he summoned his battle axe. "How many times have I told you that she
is not an it, Spears? You will rue the day you ever crossed paths with her, and
if I live to see it, I'm going to piss on your ashes."
"You're not actually going to let the...girl go!" the other high ranked reaper
exclaimed.
A hand almost too delicate to belong to a male smoothly caressed the weapon's
bruised cheek. "I'm so sorry for everything, my beautiful love," he whispered
in the sweetly haunting voice reserved only for her. A rush of air blew past
her face as the gray haired reaper readied his scythe. "Watch me," he stated
flatly, swinging the battle axe overhead, effortlessly cutting through the
manacles suspending the experimental weapon from the ceiling. "You can't expect
her to function properly as a being if you insist on mistreating her."
"Sir, we are capable of-" the Dispatch manager began.
"Spears, don't fuck with him anymore. Even I know my limits," the imposing
reaper interrupted. "He clearly has his reasons. I need you, so keep your mouth
shut unless you want him to tear it off of you."
                                    xxxxxx
Sterile white hit the shattered lights of the petite's eyes as the blindfold
was carefully removed. She found herself unable to look at the deceptively
youthful face only inches from hers.
~Beautiful eyes that lie.~
She was unable to scramble away from his gentle, reassuring touches for fear of
severe punishment from the others. Just like in years past, the shadow gently
cupped her face in his hands and gave in to his compulsion to kiss away her
tears. If she wasn't starving and under observation in the "white room", she'd
kill him with a single thought. "Why, Hesse? How have I wronged you? I loved
you as my most treasured friend. You promised you'd never punish me, but you
abandoned me here; left me in perpetual punishment for the last ten years. Why?
Why did you lie? Do you have any idea how much it hurts...how much it still
hurts?"
The Gray Shadow hung his head in tearful silence. "Stella, I...No matter what I
say to you, it seems you won't believe me. Please be assured I didn't intend to
punish you. I do not choose sides in spite of my feelings. I sincerely wish my
neutrality wasn't my survival mechanism. Please believe me when I say that I
treasured every moment I spent with you, and I was truly honored to receive
your gift of friendship that day." His hand drifted up to the curved spike in
his left ear. The reaper helped the lavender weapon into a sitting position and
kept her hands in his as he gazed at her mismatched, melancholy light through
rimless glasses. "Stella, you are the totality of subliminal beauty, especially
your eyes."
Despite the pain in her heart from confronting the man who betrayed her, the
female couldn't help but blush at the observant compliment. "Your hair is
longer," she pointed out, too distracted by her obsession to think about
vengeance. "So soft," she quietly mused as she slid her fingers through wavy
gray, making the male's heart race. Delicate fingers lightly caressed the gray
reaper's high cheekbones, making his heart beat even faster. Against her better
judgement, she inched closer to the one who broke her heart. "Your eyes are so
beautiful even though they lied. Should I kill you, I will spare your beauty,"
she whispered darkly, the accent of her voice unlocking the shadow's secret
places as it lingered in his ear. Under normal circumstances, he would beg her
not to tease him, but this was not normal and nor were the circumstances and
they both knew it, especially her.
"We have tasted each other's secrets, my beautiful love. You know that in my
eyes, you can do no wrong, just as I know that your hatred runs as deep as your
love and your wrath burns as hot as my passion. Yet, if one proves to be truly
penitent in your eyes, they may live to be forgiven by you," he whispered back,
the haunting voice he reserves just for her sending shivers down her spine.
"You remembered. I am pleased." The petite gazed at the shadow. "I want to see
once more."
Understanding what she meant, the reaper removed his glasses, allowing the
weapon to behold his true beauty. "I'd usually tell you that you have no reason
to shed tears, but right now, my saying that would be an outright lie."
"You want to kiss me, don't you?" the weapon guessed while involuntary tears
trickled down her cheeks.
"Please, my beautiful love, more than anything," he pleaded.
"Ok," she softly consented.
Two sadistic creatures of wrath came together in a strangely intimate kiss.
Both shed tears for their own reasons, but unlike the ritualistic kiss from
years past, neither revealed their reasons to the other.
"Your beauty is perpetual, Stella. I know that even though I can't see you at
the moment."
"As is yours, Hesse. I can't deny it even if I want to kill you." A tiny smile
flitted across the Rarity's face. "You're wearing my headpiece on your boot."
"I am," the shadow confirmed. "And, I still know when you cry even when we are
parted from each other." The high ranked reaper affixed his glasses to their
rightful place. "I swear to you, Stella, what happened was out of my control. I
am more than willing to face your wrath if you so wish it." High contrast eyes
sadly stared into heterocromatic lights growing dimmer by the second. "Stella,
I love you and I always will even though it shall always remain unrequited. I
hope one day you'll escape and find the love you're searching for. No matter
how much I wish for it, I know I could never be that One." The Gray Shadow
cupped the petite's face in his hands and kissed away her tears. His eyes
widened when she reciprocated his action. "Stella, it's been so long since
you've done that."
"I just want to know why you do it to me."
"I told you it's a secret I won't reveal," the unusual reaper sadly whispered.
"Stella, to answer your question from earlier about my hurting you...Pain is
bliss compared to the anguish that consumes me. I may not feel the same pain
you feel as you were the one who was betrayed, but I feel it nevertheless even
though I am the traitor."
"Am I an object to you?" the tattooed snow questioned with scorned sadness
lacing her soft, airy voice.
"No, my beautiful love, and nor have you ever been. Unfortunately, what is
about to happen will cause you to believe otherwise," he replied truthfully.
"I'm so very sorry for everything, my beautiful love." The reaper withdrew his
hands from all contact with the female and let rogue tears fall from a bowed
head. "Should you ever wish for my end, I will gladly perish for you." With a
gentle kiss to the Rarity's forehead, the high ranking, gray haired reaper got
up and joined his colleagues behind the two way mirror.
                                    xxxxxx
Just as lines between pleasure and pain were blurred to the tattooed project,
so now were the lines between punishment and experimentation. As she sat in the
"white room" she began to wonder if the blurred lines between pleasured pain
and experimental punishment were beginning to merge into a single, solid line
of sadistic objectification.
~What am I?~
The weapon stared blankly at the two way mirror, knowing the three managers on
the opposite side were talking about her. Against her will, silent tears fell
down her expressionless face as she thought of the one she couldn't remember.
The door to the "white room" opened, struggling footsteps and curses in male
voices announced the arrival of several Empaths herding an angel into the
sterile torture chamber. The female didn't take her eyes off of the two way
mirror as the door slammed shut and locked when the males of her race made
their hasty exit, leaving her alone with the foul creature. Empty sockets and
golden wings unfurled as the flying genocidal maniac prepared to attack the
Rarity.
~Archangel. The worst of the worst. The first of the False One's host to arrive
and dash the infant Transcendentals' heads against the walls of the temple,
dismember them, and eat their flesh. They dare rape our priestesses and tear
down our temple walls. That story has never left me since the morning of my
life. My blood burns with wrath and my eyes are avenging flames for the
genocide of the Transcendentals-the rarest of the Rarities.~
The weapon of mass destruction's eyes illuminated with the fiery light of wrath
and strobed with vengeance as she observed one of the angels responsible for
the genocide of a subset of her race. Any fear previously felt was replaced by
intense, burning rage radiating from deep within her core as she turned to face
the enemy of the Goddess.
"You impure thing," the golden winged creature seethed. "It's a good thing the
reapers saved us the trouble of destroying your filthy realm."
"You are a servant of a male. Your face houses empty pits. You dare call
yourself an arbiter of purity when you lack eyes to see!" the Rarity
admonished.
Before the archangel could retort a pair of its wings were torn from its back.
It shrieked in echoing voices as the other wings were plucked one at a time and
tossed in random directions. One wing bounced off the two way mirror and landed
in front of the shocked angel, still twitching and gushing flames of blood. It
stared open mouthed at the wickedly grinning Rarity soaked and unaffected by
its blood.
"I've never tasted angel's flesh," the weapon said in low, almost seductive
voice. With a single thought, the angel's limbs were ripped from its body and
tossed aside except for one arm. She held the heavenly agent of genocide down
with the power of her mind and forced him to watch her eat its flesh. "Hot and
sweet. Is that how the Transcendentals tasted to you? If you foul archangels
weren't true androgynes, I'd do to you what you did to the priestesses. For
now, I'll settle for finishing my work." The avenging Rarity took another bite
from the angel's severed arm and smiled wickedly as the foul creature's skin
peeled away from its flesh. It's wails and screams were music to her ears as
she continued eating the severed arm and disemboweling the creature by merely
thinking about it. Vital organs flew in all directions, hitting walls with wet
splats, bouncing off the two way mirror with squishy thuds, and slapping the
ceiling with some of the gore getting stuck in the manacles that had previously
imprisoned her. Her sadistic, bloodstained grin grew impossibly wide when she
finally reached the haughty angel's still beating heart. "Why do you need all
these organs?" the madwoman inquired, carelessly tossing aside the half eaten
arm. "They are useless to you. It is more proof that your Creator, whom you
deem as perfect, is just as flawed as the pitiful humans He created. Ha! And
you have the nerve to tell me that my people are impure whores!" the enraged
Rarity sneered. With a single thought, she ripped the angel's heart out and
stuffed it down its throat. "Know this now, I show no mercy to my enemies. The
Goddess will have Her vengeance." With a final thought, the sadistic winter
storm twisted the archangel's head off and hurled it at the two way mirror with
enough force to form shining spider webs within the reflective surface.
The petite baptized in angel's blood turned her attention to the men behind the
glass. Gone was her sadistic grin and in its place, glowering, fearsome,
animalistic darkness stared at the three reapers behind the glass. A rabid
snarl curled on her pouty lips as the bright lights continued to strobe in her
eyes. The female howled obscenities in her native language as she flung herself
at the mirror in unsated bloodlust. "When that day comes, I will have my
vengeance. You will feel my pain. You will hurt as I hurt. I will punish you
the way you punish me. I will show no mercy when I kill you. My wrath knows no
bounds!" Just as she finished her vow, she felt a sharp prick in her neck and
immediately blacked out in a pool of her own wrath.
                                    xxxxxx
/Gods, she was incredible. Such pure, glorious sadism. If only there was a way
I could free her.../
The three managers watched the dark haired Empath drag the unstable weapon out
of the unholy slaughterhouse, each with their own damning thoughts in their
heads.
#How the hell did that thing effortlessly destroy an archangel? Just what in
the world is going on with that thing's filthy, oversized eyes?#
"So, what did you think, Spears?" the ponytailed manager inquired of his
subordinate.
"Sir?"
"Be honest now. I want someone's opinion," the senior manager pressed. "Hesse
isn't talking. He's probably got a hard on after watching all that."
"I did not need to know that, sir," the stoic reaper huffed.
"Don't be so damn uptight. Now then, tell me what you think," the crude reaper
insisted.
"Honestly, sir, I think that thing is highly unstable. I'll concede to the fact
that it is very powerful, however, it is of no use to the project if it is
dependent on its emotions in order to use its power. Furthermore, it has not
improved in efficiency or neatness as you can plainly see," the Dispatch
manager pointed out in a calm, even, monotone voice. "I believe it is more of a
liability than a benefit to us, sir."
"But, you saw its eyes, Spears! They didn't change!" the black haired senior
manager excitedly reminded his subordinate.
"I had noticed that, sir. It seems that the thing destroyed the archangel under
its own power. I also noticed that it was unaffected by the angel's blood. Even
we are susceptible to the fire coursing through their veins," the stoic reaper
further explained to his black haired superior.
/She is not a thing. She is not an it. She is not an object./
The gray haired man's eyes flashed in quiet rage with each passing moment of
his subordinates' inane squabbling. "There will be no war," the high ranking
manager declared in a dead calm voice. He turned to face his subordinates with
cold, hard, sadistic wrath glaring at them from dark green and citrine eyes.
"This project has been a complete waste of time. Dispose of the weapons,
including the Empaths brought on to help create them. Moreover, we cannot risk
exposure, so be sure to keep this from being obvious. Other than that, I don't
care about the method of disposal so long as it's done. As a matter of fact, I
wash my hands of this whole affair. From now on the blood is on your hands."
#Finally, we can get rid of that abomination.#
The pruner wielding reaper internally smirked. "Sir, what of the 'Prototype'?"
Icy, suspicious wrath glared from high contrast eyes of conflicted neutrality
at the Dispatch manager. "Why should you care, Spears? 'It' shouldn't matter to
you," the gray reaper replied sarcastically. "She is none of your concern. Any
other questions, Spears? If not, you are dismissed."
The stoic manager adjusted his steel framed glasses for the hundred thousandth
time. "I have no further questions, sir," he responded with icy respect as he
bowed to his gray haired superior. "Good evening, sirs." With a final stoic bid
for the day, the lower ranked man turned on his heel and briskly marched out of
the room, leaving his superiors to speak who knew what amongst themselves.
The black haired reaper smugly smirked at his boss. "Where on earth did you get
that?" he asked in a mocking tone of voice as he poked the curved spike in the
gray reaper's left ear. "Did your 'beautiful love' give it to you?"
The unusual reaper grabbed the ponytailed reaper's wrist, crushing the bones
with hidden strength. "Don't fucking touch me, Gaines, especially there." His
deceptively strong hand clamped down harder on the other's wrist, igniting his
bloodlust as he felt the larger reaper's bones grind against each other in his
iron grip. "If you must know, she gave it to me."
The taller male couldn't help but push his limits with his smaller superior. "I
bet your beautiful little love gave it to you, alright. How was it? Just what
the fuck makes you so special?"
The Gray Shadow summoned his Death scythe and backed the other reaper against
the wall, holding him in place with the fearsome weapon. "That is none of your
business, Gaines!" the battle axe wielder snapped. "Nothing makes me special,
however, she is special to me. Unlike the rest of you, I treated her like the
woman she is! And, yes, I love her. That much is painfully obvious. I don't
care that my love for her is unrequited. As long as I could be with her, I was
happy. I will answer no further questions, Gaines." The gray haired man turned
to leave, then paused at the door. "Just carry out my orders," he said in a
cold, razor sharp tone as he turned back around and glared at his subordinate.
"I'll say it one last time so you get it through your thick skull, I wash my
hands of this entire affair. From now on the blood is now on your hands."
/Should my beautiful love wish for my end, I'll gladly perish for her. Should
she escape, I won't hunt her down. I sincerely hope she finds the love she's
searching for. I know I'm not that One no matter how much I wish to be./
                                    xxxxxx
One sadist looked down at the other. His principles and feelings stood in
extreme conflict like the colors of his dual irises as he gazed at the
unconscious Rarity. He had experienced the depths of her sadism and couldn't
love her more for it. Thoughts of going rogue and stealing the weapon away
began gnawing at his conscience, but the shadow was a man of principles who
staked no claims and took no sides. Before he let his feelings interfere with
his principles, the Gray Shadow kissed the Rarity's soft lips in that delicate
way that literally made his heart stop. "I'm sorry for everything, my beautiful
love. My heart is yours to do with as you please, even beyond the end of days.
I love you and I always will."
Like the shadow he is, the gray haired reaper broke protocol and created his
own personal portal out of one Hell and into another. "When do I not break
protocol?" he bitterly muttered to himself as he materialized in his office.
"If I am to die, it shall be by her hand alone. I sincerely hope that day comes
when my beautiful love unleashes her beautiful wrath on me." The distraught,
gray reaper's hand wandered up to the treasured curved spike in his left ear as
it so often does when he thinks of her. "I love her so much, I wish I didn't
feel," he murmured, allowing rogue tears to jump to their deaths.
Chapter End Notes
     I wrote this while I had a vision impairing migraine. The chunk with
     killing the angel is a metaphor for killing that damn headache mixed
     with the plot of the fic.
***** Lucid *****
Chapter Notes
     January/Stella's innermost thoughts ~
     William T. Spears' innermost thoughts #
     Hesse's innermost thoughts /
     Hi, thanks for the reads and kudos and all that fun stuff. Sorry it's
     been forever since the last update. I haven't been feeling well
     lately and I'm still not feeling well. Oh well, I suppose I should
     endure.
     This chapter is a bit easier on the senses. There's no violence in
     the chapter, however, it does contain a homophobic slur and depending
     on one's perspective, gender based orders for eradication. Please
     remember the context of the story. Don't worry, there is a palate
     cleanser of sexy time with Undertaker. ***You have been warned.***
     Enjoy.
The unconscious Rarity knew who it was that placed a soft, delicate kiss on her
lips. The single rogue tear that rolled down his cheek and slipped between
their lips was a dead giveaway that it was the bittersweet shadow. As she
tasted his tear, old memories boiled to the surface. When the tips of the
shadow's lengthy gray waves brushed her skin as he rose to his full height in
preparation for his unorthodox departure, the softness sent her into sweetness.
                                    xxxxxx
It was the dawn of her twenty third year and she was grateful to be with him;
her sweet friend. The petite wrapped her arms around the thin reaper, the cold
metal of the loops adorning his spine a stark contrast to the heat of her skin.
"You look so beautiful with longer hair," she said sweetly. She hummed and
nuzzled the shadow's neck as he laced his fingers through hers. "It's so soft."
"It was much longer in my youth before I took a management position," the
shadow mused. "It was so freeing in those days. I often wonder why I accepted
promotion."
The female delicately kissed the curved spike in the reaper's left ear and
quickly ducked behind him, nuzzling her face in gray waves. "I love you, Hesse,
as my friend," she whispered, the accent of her voice unlocking his secret
places.
The Gray Shadow's slender hand wandered up to the piercing. His heart raced at
the lingering feeling her soft lips left behind. A touch of pink dusted his
pale cheeks as his fingers slid down the curved metal spike. He knew from that
moment on, the feeling of her soft kiss would be another reason his hand would
drift up to the painful treasure every time he thought of her. The reaper
peeked over his shoulder at the lavender Rarity and smiled warmly at the
obsessive innocence glowing in her mismatched eyes. "My beautiful love, as long
as I'm with you, I feel free."
The experiment popped her head up on the unusual reaper's shoulder. "Really?"
she questioned with curious skepticism lighting up her blue and green orbs.
"Yes," he swore, locking his dark green and citrine eyes with hers.
"You have beautiful eyes." The dead of winter gently caressed the gray haired
reaper's jaw. "Like toxic storms."
The sweet shadow's heart raced under the female's delicate touch. "You are
beautiful," he responded as he turned to face the woman with glowing eyes. "If
I may, I'd love nothing more than to kiss you, my beautiful love." With her
small nod of consent, the gray reaper delicately slid his slender fingers
through lavender tresses and kissed the experimental beauty with sweet
tenderness, savoring her like a fine delicacy, loving her rather than
dominating her. He softly growled as her fingertips inadvertently grazed some
of the loops in his back as she pulled him closer to her.
The sadists finally pulled away from each other with erratic hearts and
electric shivers jolting up and down their spines. "Oh my Goddess," the wide
eyed female gasped. Her small hands absently wandered up to her lips, the light
of her large, lupine eyes glowing brighter than a supernova as she beheld the
beautiful ancient with conflicting emotions swirling in their glowing depths.
~Oh my Goddess! Do I actually love him? Am I going mad?~
"Have I offended you?" the sweet shadow asked in the soft, haunting voice he
saves just for her. Without changing her facial expression or removing her
hands from her mouth, the petite shook her head. "I don't believe I've ever
seen you look at me this way before, love." The gray reaper gently removed the
petite's trembling hands from her mouth, prompting her to hide behind a veil of
lavender. "Why do you hide your face from me? Are you sure I haven't offended
you?"
"No," the blushing Rarity squeaked. "Hesse, I'm in...You've never...I love how
you kissed me," she finally blurted out.
The male swept the curtain of lavender obscuring the weapon's face aside,
revealing a deep pink blush staining pale skin and a sweet smile very seldom
seen on any sadist's face. "Stella, you look stunning when you smile like that.
I'm glad I could be that one who made you happy, even if it's for just an
instant in time." The Gray Shadow's eyes, full of fire and passion, bored into
her glowing emerald and sapphire jewels. "I love you, Stella," he declared in a
sensual, haunting voice. "And I always will, even though my love shall always
remain unrequited." A slender hand almost too delicate to belong to a male
lightly caressed the lavender beauty's cheek. "God's you're beautiful." A pair
of soft lips rained sweet kisses on the shadow's face before lingering on his
lips; the taste of his tears mingling with the taste of perfection.
/For an instant in time, she loved me as I love her; an Instant in time I will
treasure forever./
"Don't cry. I didn't mean to hurt you," the tattooed project said lowly. "Are
you going to punish me?" She looked up at the unusual man with a worried glow
in her heterocromatic eyes.
"I will never punish you, Stella. You can do no wrong in my eyes, my love," he
reassured with a warm smile. "You didn't hurt me. For the first time in my
existence, I feel happy." The reaper wrapped his slender arms around the Rarity
and felt his heart race as she snuggled into his warm embrace.
"I'm glad I could be that one," the female said softly as she pressed a soft
kiss on the gray haired man's bare chest. "I love you as my most treasured
friend."
~Did I really love him in that brief instant in time as he loves me? Do I still
love him? Am I going mad? Oh my Goddess, please forgive this starving sinner,
for I know not what I feel.~
                                    xxxxxx
Two dark haired, bespectacled reapers on opposite ends of the age spectrum
lingered in the powerless weapon's presence discussing plans of systematic
destruction of her kindred. There would be no war, therefore, the biological
weapons they created out of beings they stole from a world they destroyed were
useless and posed a great risk of exposing them for their atrocities. The
perverted eugenicists wore angry glares on their faces as their bright blue
eyes blazed at the stoic manager. The argument wore on until the blond lost his
temper and sent the stern reaper flying into the wall by merely imagining it.
"'Frosty' is my toy, Spears," the blond rogue shouted with his classic,
cheerfully sadistic grin plastered on his face. "Just because you have some
vendetta against the bitch, doesn't give you free reign over my research. Try
fucking with me again and I'll lodge this pole up your ass, you bent son of a
bitch!" With the threat made, the irate reaper's Death Scythe was torn out of
his grip by the thought of another.
"Unhand my scythe!" the Dispatch manager gruffly demanded of the blond
eugenicist.
"Sure, Mr. Spears." A sly, mocking grin spread over the blond's lips. Again, he
threw the manager into the wall with a single thought as he passed the pruning
shears to his dark haired associate.
"Oh, what a fun new toy!" he gleefully exclaimed with underhanded sadism
lighting up his blue eyes.
The black haired senior manager refused to step in and assist his subordinate
simply because watching the scene was far too amusing. If the boring man wasn't
essential to the project, he'd let the two Empaths have their sadistic way with
him. "Alright, alright! I'm going to lose my lunch if you two don't stop
taunting the bastard. I can only laugh so much. Shit! Let the poor man go and
return his weapon. He deserves some dignity."
The Empaths obeyed the orders put forth by their boss and restored the lower
ranked manager to his former state: upright and uptight. "Dammit, I wanted to
hit him," the dark haired Empath muttered under his breath.
"Let's get down to business before the 'Prototype' regains consciousness. We
have orders to destroy the weapons and eradicate your people," the high ranking
reaper said to the eugenicists in a cold, clinical tone. "Since we've seemed to
have finally calmed down, I would like to hear Spears' recommendation."
The pruner wielding manager adjusted his glasses as he prepared to speak.
"Thank you, sir. As we are well aware, these creatures are powerful and
intelligent and our people will become suspicious if such creatures suddenly
vanished. For this reason, I recommend systematic destruction of the weapons in
order to prevent such suspicion and any resulting inquiries from unnecessary
parties." Metal on metal clicked as the tip of the stoic male's Death Scythe
pushed steel framed glasses up the bridge of his nose. "It seems that I'm the
only one who thinks the 'Prototype' should be destroyed in spite of
contradictory orders. In my opinion, it is too unstable and too powerful for
its own good, therefore, it poses a threat to us and exposing the project," the
Dispatch manager concluded.
"I agree with Spears' recommendation except for destroying the 'Prototype',"
the high ranking manager stated flatly. "I agree that the 'Prototype' is
dangerously unstable and extremely powerful, but you have no say when it comes
to her fate." He turned his attention to the two scientists. "I'd like to keep
the green haired girl alive for my own personal use. Bring her to me when she
comes back from the field. I don't want to see so much as one scratch on her."
"Sir, that one would be third on the list if we used the proposed-"
"I know that, Mr. Spears," the senior manager sharply cut off his subordinate.
"Maybe if you tried getting laid every once in awhile, you'd understand." A sly
smile crept over his face. "Hesse sure as hell understood."
"Sir, may I remind you that these things are weapons," the formal man stated
through grit teeth.
#What is it with these fossils? Honestly, the axiom must be true!#
"What of it, Spears? I like a kinky girl dressed in leather. Don't forget, they
are biological weapons. I'm simply taking advantage of the biological part.
Besides, she's a good lay," the reaper stated smugly as he adjusted his golden
framed glasses. He turned his attention back to the Empaths. "As for the
females of your race, leave them in the electrical engineering lab, seal it
off, and gas them. Every single one of them except for Emily. If you so much as
look at her, I will kill you. She is mine! Do you understand me? Emily is mine
and mine alone!" A possessive glint flashed over angry chartreuse as he growled
out his threat.
The stone faced manager's eyebrow twitched as he forced himself to hold in a
disgusted rant at his boss for sullying himself with technicolor whores. Taking
a deep breath, he asked a question he hoped would be relevant. "Sir, why place
so much importance on keeping that thing around?"
"Oh, just some unfinished research that's absolutely none of your concern if
you wish to keep your job and preserve your life," the senior manager warned.
An alarmed shout from the blond rogue to the dark haired rogue prompted him to
alert the reaper with the ponytail that the weapon of mass destruction had
regained consciousness. Neither of the eugenicists were sure how long she had
been awake which infuriated the high ranking reaper. "Don't worry, boss," the
dark haired eugenicist wheezed, holding his hands up in surrender. "I've got
something already prepared in case something like this happened." The blue eyed
male held up a syringe full of pale pink liquid. "She'll sleep for a while, and
when she wakes up, she won't remember a thing. I've tested it on December,
October, and March with 100 percent success," he reassured.
"Fine. Hurry up and give her the damn shot," the older reaper huffed. "Spears,
you have your orders. We begin tomorrow. You're dismissed for today."
The chronically irritated manager took his leave with a respectful bow. He
allowed the door to slam shut behind him in a passive aggressive display of his
disgust with his superior's objectionable behavior.
"What a fucking stiff, eh, my pretty?" the dark haired pervert rhetorically
asked the drug hazed female as he injected her with pale pink poison. "Sweet
dreams, my pretty."
"Why...shadows...unnecessary?" the girl slurred as she faded into an alternate
silver reality.
                                    xxxxxx
Piercing, electric green eyes held the lavender haired woman in place; trapped
like prey, willingly unmoving in his predatory gaze. She blushed madly and her
twin hearts virtually exploded from her chest as the silver haired legend ever
so minutely narrowed his silver framed eyes in savage seduction. Giving in to
her obsession, the petite stood on her tip toes and pulled the elegant, black
ribbon down, unfurling a waterfall of silver that seemed never ending.
"You're so cute when you blush," the male's dark, velvet voice floated into the
experiment's auditory senses. Long, slender fingers worked their way through
exotic silk as if they were searching for something to occupy themselves with
lest they become bored and destructive.
"You're the 'pretty one'," the female whispered, nuzzling her face in silver
silk, deeply inhaling the sweet, earthy scent. She hummed in pleasure as the
legendary reaper raked his long fingers through her hair, grazing her scalp,
and leaving their tantalizing signature on the back of her neck. "Oh Goddess,
that feels so good," she moaned as he repeated his action. The petite's eyes
lit up with a strangely innocent hunger as she absently twirled the silver
reaper's thin braid between her fingers.
"You're a peculiar one, Lovely, but that's what I adore about you," the tall
man in black said with a chuckle as he wrapped his long arms around her in a
possessive embrace. "May I?" he asked, tilting her head back so their eyes met.
"Yes," the wide eyed, captivated female permitted.
The silver haired man gently cupped the tattooed weapon's face in his hands and
kissed her with great tenderness and care. The usually dominant male allowed
her to take control as he lovingly obliged her gradual buildup from a tiny
spark to a raging wildfire. In one swift move, the petite's gown was removed
from her body. She stared in wide eyed surprise at Legendary Death as he beheld
her naked glory. "Perfect Beauty," he mused.
"You think I'm beautiful?" the girl with the glowing eyes questioned as she
began stealthily disrobing the legend. With the power of her mind, the Rarity
asserted her dominance by pushing the silver reaper to the ground and holding
him in place. It was his turn to stare up at her with shocked, acidic eyes as
she made herself comfortable on top of him. "I think you're beautiful, 'pretty
one'. I've missed you for so long," she whispered sweetly, her lips brushing
his.
"You're lovelier than I imagined you to be," he whispered back. "I knew it was
you that ran into me that day many years ago. I tried to find you, but it
seemed that you just vanished."
"You did?"
"Yes."
The weaponized winter descended on the legendary reaper in a sensual kiss that
left him totally at her mercy even as she released him from her mental bondage.
She relished in the soft growls the silver haired man made as she grazed her
nails over the rings in his nipples. The heterocromatic lights of her eyes
illuminated as a sly smirk played on her pouty lips once a particular piercing
garnered her attention. "This is interesting," she murmured as she toyed with
the piercing, giggling lightly at the legendary reaper's pleasured moans.
"You little minx," the silver haired man groaned. "Don't tease me unless you're
going to do something about it."
The curious woman looked up from that certain piercing and cocked her head to
the side. "I don't understand. I've never encountered a man who would pierce
himself down there. How does it feel?"
"I think the question is best directed at you. Why don't you find out," he
quipped.
The violent winter narrowed her eyes at the reaper at her mercy. "Is that all I
am to you?"
"Absolutely not," the legend softly replied. He gently caressed the female's
cheek. "You're not an object, Lovely. You're free to do as you please."
"With you?" she asked hopefully.
"Yes."
"And, to you?"
"By all means, I am yours," he meaningfully replied.
The Rarity's eyes became fire as she drew the silver reaper closer to her and
kissed him with electric shocks coursing through her being and into his. Reaper
and Rarity became One as they twined their limbs together and began their
deadly lover's dance. The weapon of mass destruction ground her hips down hard
on the reaper's, taking pleasure in that certain piercing as it unlocked her
secret places. She rolled and snapped her hips as she whipped her hair back in
a dangerous arc when the reaper's fingers dug into her flesh, leaving behind
impassioned red lines as proof of their existence. The fair haired couple came
together in a fiery kiss, lost in each other's eyes as they continued their
deadly lover's dance. The petite cried out in ecstasy as the pleasure of teeth
sinking into skin reverberated throughout her very being when Legendary Death
clamped down on the side of her neck, just above her collarbone. Nothing else
mattered to her except for the legend, and nothing else mattered to him except
for the Rarity. With one last blazing kiss, the fated pair lost themselves in
each other.
"I love you, 'pretty one'," the petite softly declared as she nuzzled the
legend's neck.
"You don't remember my name anymore, do you, Lovely?" the reaper questioned
with a small frown.
The female crawled off the reaper's lap and hung her head in guilt. "I-I'm
sorry. Are you going to punish me?" Her mismatched eyes glowed sadly from
having forgotten the One in another reality.
The silver reaper tilted the stained ice's head up. "Look at me, Lovely." She
complied and met phosphorescent eyes full of compassion. "I will never punish
you. I will never harm you. I will never leave you. I will always protect you.
I love you. I always have and I always will."
The petite's sad glow vanished. Out of the darkness, a spark of light ignited
within her memory. "Adrian. Your name is Adrian," she whispered in sudden
recognition, glistening tears dripping from big, beautiful, emerald and
sapphire eyes. "You have beautiful, breathtaking eyes that never lie."
The silver legend smiled warmly and embraced the Rarity. "I'm glad you
remembered, Stella."
The enamored woman snuggled into the reaper's embrace. "We are One as She
intended, and happy as we intended."
With one final, tender kiss, the reaper made a solemn vow to the lavender
beauty as she laid blissfully snuggled in his arms. "Anything you need, I will
provide. Anything you want, I will give. Anything you wish, I will do." The
silver haired man affectionately nuzzled the petite in his arms and kissed the
crown of her head. "I love you with all that I am and more...no matter what."
***** Open *****
Chapter Notes
     January/Stella's innermost thoughts ~
     William T. Spears' innermost thoughts #
     Hesse's innermost thoughts /
     Hello, and thanks for reading. It's very much appreciated.
     Our anguished friend with the nifty piercing is taking a short break
     from the story, but he'll be back later. I won't say when.
     Today's chapter contains a homophobic slur, mention of rape, suicide
     via mind control, and vivisections. ***You have been warned.***
     Enjoy.
A blond with shining blue eyes dug around inside of the ultimate weapon with
his trademark cheerfully sadistic grin on his ruddy face. A curious glow
overtook the brightness in his shiny, sky blue eyes as he moved along to the
Rarity's lower abdomen. "Where in the hell are your parts?" he muttered to
himself while he sifted through various organs with a pair of forceps. The
female's silent sobbing grew into tormented shrieks from the brutal
rearrangement of her precious insides. "Would you shut up! I'm trying to
concentrate!" the eugenicist yelled. "Fucking shit! You do this every time I
cut you open! You stupid bitch! This is routine! Get it through your thick
fucking skull!" The frustrated pervert harshly jabbed at the petite's liver and
continued the vivisection while she had no choice but to endure without the
benefit of anesthesia. The mutilated experiment closed her eyes and
unsuccessfully tried to pretend she was somewhere else.
"Mr. Glass," the stern voice of the Dispatch manager entered the experiment's
auditory senses as he entered the room. "Do you dwarfs make a habit of cutting
each other open?"
"We are not dwarfs, Spears," the blond hissed. "Why are you here? Can't you see
that I'm busy with very important research?"
Blue and green eyes glistening with tears looked at the stoic reaper as he
conversed with her tormentor. "I am here to remind you that Mr. Gaines has
ordered the destruction of the first weapon to be carried out by end of
business, which is in..." The reaper checked his pocket watch for the precise
countdown until "end of business". "Two hours and thirty one minutes. I will be
collecting. Furthermore, I do not tolerate tardiness. I have enough overtime as
it is." The stoic male's golden green eyes met the petite's pleading eyes of
blue and green. Flames of vengeance and contempt immediately ignited in
retaliation to the splayed open female's silent plea for compassion. "Be sure
to bring that," the manager ordered. "It will need to dispose of the weapon's
keeper."
"Yeah, yeah, got it, Spears. 'Frosty' will be ready when she's ready," the
rogue replied, dismissively waving a scalpel at the reaper.
"Mr. Glass!" the suited reaper boomed. "What do you not understand about
punctuality?"
The sadistic scientist ceased his search for the experiment's missing parts.
Sky blue eyes blazed when he faced the irate man as he pinned him to the wall
with a passing thought. "It'll be ready when it's ready. Gaines'll understand
why. Now, get the fuck out of here and let me concentrate." The Empath unpinned
the Dispatch manager from the wall. "Get out, Spears."
The shorter male's uncharacteristically calm voice radiated fear inspired
shivers down the stoic reaper's spine. He turned on his heel and briskly
marched out of the lab, unused pruners in hand, and slammed the door behind
him.
                                    xxxxxx
The high ranking reaper's sudden mood swing within a matter of seconds upon
hearing the report only heightened the lower ranked manager's anger.
#How can he take that psychopath's side?#
"Mr. Spears, if he's in the middle of research, he can't just bend to your
will, especially if it's a vivisection," the imposing manager scolded. He shook
his head in frustration, high, black ponytail bobbing as he did so. "I know
you're anally retentive about punctuality, but I suggest you try some
flexibility. It might do your tight ass some good." The older reaper narrowed
his chartreuse eyes at his subordinate. "I like my best weapons operating at
optimal strength. Go do some reapings or catch up on some paperwork until EOB,
then you may come back. Don't come to me complaining about Glass' research on
the 'Prototype' again," the senior manager ordered.
With a twitching eyebrow and mouth forced into a straight line, the irritated
reaper bit out his compliance through grit teeth.
                                    xxxxxx
An unusual man walked through twisting corridors seeking out a longtime
ethereal friend. He had a confession to make, a conscience to clear, and a
favor to ask. He sensed another presence in the distance, yet still too close
for comfort. As per usual, since the dawn of his reaper days, he broke protocol
and ported directly to his destination.
The thin reaper silently waited in the shadows as the impartial judge of his
character completed the work that had been assigned to her for the day. A
curved metal spike beckoned the thin man's hand to his left ear as he thought
of her.
                                    xxxxxx
The unusual reaper held the Rarity close, lacing his slender fingers through
hers as they sat atop the roof of his home watching the day turn to night. He
rested his head on her shoulder and couldn't help but hold her closer. If he
had his way, he'd be that One and he'd always protect her. "I found it
necessary to forgo the rest of my day's work so I could enjoy this with you,"
he said softly.
The strange eyed beauty turned her face up to her benefactor with a troubled
glow in her mismatched eyes. "Won't you be punished?" she asked in a soft,
quivering voice.
The sweet shadow gazed down at her with dark green and citrine eyes through
rimless glasses. "Not if they want to live, my beautiful love." He smiled
reassuringly at the woman and nuzzled her affectionately. His heart skipped a
beat when she returned his affection. "Though I've literally gotten away with
murder, my power is still limited, so you need not worry about my being
punished for missing a few meetings. Even if I were to be punished, you are
more than worth it."
"Thank you," the experiment whispered in appreciation. She turned around within
his embrace, her subtly glowing eyes locking onto his high contrast double
irises. "your eyes are so beautiful." She ghosted her delicate fingertips along
the fine bone structure of the reaper's face.
The unusual reaper's heart raced under the lethal weapon's delicate touch. His
eyes went wide as her nails grazed his pronounced collarbone. "Oh, gods, don't
do this to me," he groaned as her soft fingertips traversed the bare skin of
his chest peeking out of his half buttoned, crimson dress shirt.
"Stella...I..." The speechless shadow stared at the petite slowly disrobing him
with pleading eyes. "Please don't tease me like this, Stella." The gray reaper
visibly shivered as the prototype's fingers ghosted over his hips on the way to
the buttons of his pants.
"You always say that when I touch you this way," the petite pointed out,
trapping the male in hypnotic lights.
"I don't like to be teased," the shadow groaned.
"I have never teased you nor have I turned you away from me. I always want you,
Hesse," the lavender haired woman solemnly reminded the shadow. She cupped the
male's face in her hands and gazed into his dark green and citrine eyes with
conflicted heterocromatic lights. She smiled softly at the Gray Shadow and
reached beneath thick, gray waves, seeking out the gift she gave him on the
dawn of her twentieth year. Their hearts raced as she drifted her delicate
fingers down the curved spike in his left ear.
He reached for her hand and intertwined their fingers. "Stella, why are you-"
The winter of mass destruction placed a finger over the wide eyed reaper's lips
and began speaking in the language of her people, the dialect of which she and
her benefactor expressed to one another when they were alone. "Hesse, I love
you as my most treasured friend...Forever and always."
"I will forever treasure you, my beautiful love," the sweet shadow responded in
a perfect echo of the petite's language.
Upon the exchange of sentiments in an ancient language, the Rarity gifted the
Gray Shadow the shockingly sweet kiss she knew he craved. Within the fiery
passion, a forbidden element was present as the kiss intensified. For the
briefest of instants, reaper and Rarity became One as they held each other
closer.
"You are fire in my arms," the shadow whispered into the kiss.
The lavender winter simply responded by adding more fire to the kiss as she
wrapped her limbs around the sweet shadow. She purred in delight as he drifted
his fingertips down the tattooed length of her back. Delicate fingers knotted
in gray waves as she pressed her body against his. When they finally separated,
the fine boned beings stared at each other with equal expressions of wide eyed
bewilderment and wildly racing hearts.
"You look so innocent, Hesse," the lavender beauty observed with a sweet smile.
"The way you kissed me...It felt like opening a secret door into your heart. I
now know how it feels."
"How what feels?"
"Innocence," the reaper meaningfully replied. "Innocence and the purest form of
love. The kind that can never be possessed. The purest form of love is you."
"It is the way of my people to love. All that we know is love and wrath, both
of which run deep. My people hold grudges in their burning wrath, but if the
wrongdoer is truly penitent in our eyes, they may live to be forgiven and loved
by us once more. We know no indifference toward any being. Be assured, when I
tell you that I love you as my most treasured friend, you have no reason to
doubt me." Tears dripped from large, lupine eyes as she made this intimate
revelation about her people's emotions known.
The Gray Shadow cupped the Rarity's face in his hands and kissed away her
tears. "You haven't any reason to shed tears. I have never doubted your
feelings, my beautiful love," he cooed. "Although my love for you remains
unrequited, I still take great joy in it because I am with you. You are a
treasure, Stella. I love you and I will always treasure you, even beyond the
end of days."
The blushing Rarity threw her arms around the gray reaper and nuzzled his neck.
As is customary with her, she blessed the curved spike in his left ear with a
divine kiss and whispered words in an ancient dialect known only to Rarities.
As always, when she carried out this ritual, the accent of her soft, airy voice
unlocked his secret places.
                                    xxxxxx
When all was clear, the shadow separated himself from his alias and waited for
the impartial judge to acknowledge his presence. He struggled to hold back
rebel tears as thoughts of her continued to bombard him.
/Why couldn't I have just given in to my feelings, just this once?/
"Dammit, Hesse, don't scare me like that!" a startled female with a strange
accent gasped. "Shit! You and Marcus always picked on me that way." The smile
in the woman's glowing green eyes vanished as she beheld her longtime friend's
melancholy expession. "Something is devouring your conscience. I never thought
I'd see the day. I'd expect it from Marcus, maybe even Legendary Death, had I
had the chance to meet him, but not you. If you do not wish to speak, you know
how I operate." The woman held out her hand in offering to the gray haired
reaper who stood frozen in a cesspool of guilt. With an irritated huff, she
snatched the male's slender hand and drew him into a fierce embrace. She dug
her fingers into long, gray hair and positioned them on certain pressure points
as she laid her head on his shoulder. "Are you ready?"
"Let's get this over with," the reaper answered with an exhausted sigh.
An untold amount of time passed as the female Empath probed the shadow's
consciousness. "That's why you kiss her face when she cries?" she gasped in
disbelief. The male nodded. "Does she know?"
The rebellion in the reaper's tear ducts became an outright revolution as he
could no longer keep them under control. "No," he replied, his soft, shaky
voice muffled by the crook of the Empath's neck.
With some effort, she wrenched herself free of the guilt ridden reaper. "Oh my
Goddess! Are you...Are you crying?" Her slender fingers reached beneath gray
waves and slid down curved metal. "Hesse, do you know what this is? Have you
any idea what she gave you?"
The broken reaper gently removed the other's hand from his treasured piercing.
"I don't care what you think it means, Em. Just as I'll never stop loving her,
I'll never remove it. It's special to me, just as she is. I tried to protect
her, but I cannot take sides, and I will forever be pained for the remainder of
my existence for what I have done. Should she wish for my end, I will gladly
perish for her." The gray reaper paused to gather his aching thoughts. "I've
lost count how many times I've lamented this to you. Protect her to the best of
your ability. Should she escape, I refuse to order her retrieval. I just wish-"
"I know," the Empath cut him off. "I've known you for almost two centuries,
Hesse. You're a man of principles, and this is the best you can do to call a
truce between them and your heart without going absolutely insane. It doesn't
bother me that you share your guilt with me. I am your friend, and aside from
me, Marcus would have understood, but he's in the Void waiting for me." The
male nodded with an audible sigh of relief escaping him as the ethereal judge
continued. "You're wondering how I know, aren't you? I meant everything to him.
So much so, that he'd wait for me in the Void so he could be with me again,
even if it were to transcend the end of time itself. I can feel his presence
there when I tap into my bond with the woman I lost before I met the two of
you. It's ironic that she's there, considering the fact that she's a creature
of Hell. You need not worry about your sin so much, Hesse, for I play the whore
to the one who took my loved ones from me. My secrets are darker and dirtier
than you think. Of course, I will do what I must so Her Will may be done."
"Thank you." Soft compassion, a look seldom seen in the shadow's eyes, gazed
into cynical green lights. "Does it still hurt?" he asked, lightly sweeping his
thumb over the woman's left eye.
"Only in bright light," she replied flatly. "But the sacrifice was necessary."
The Gray Shadow let his hand drift off the woman's face. "Marcus did well. I'll
say it again, Emily, she was never an object to me. She doesn't believe me
anymore, and for good reason, but I just wanted you to know I've always seen
her as a woman and I always will. I really do love her. I can't put into words
all that I feel for her. I told you once that she is my Alpha and my Omega.
That is merely an understatement." Like the shadow he is, the reaper made an
irregular exit before his longtime friend had an opportunity to respond.
                                    xxxxxx
The stoic manager walked into a bizarre theater of madness as he beheld the
rogue happily mixing strange smelling substances in a beaker on a table while
holding a weaker male of his race face down on the ground with a single
thought. The reaper's golden green eyes scanned the meticulously organized
laboratory quickly falling prey to the mad scientist's whims in search of the
prototype, but the only weapon he's seen so far was a voluptuous, tawny skinned
petite with electric blue hair. Her mismatched eyes darted around the room
before locking onto his. Terrified tears pricked the corners as she made her
soft plea for help. The manager didn't allow even a tiny crack to appear in his
granite visage as he silently denied the doomed beauty's desperate pleas.
"Shut the fuck up, April," the blond rogue snapped. "Oh, hello, Mr. Spears.
It's so nice to see you again."
The eugenicist's sarcasm wasn't lost on the uptight manager. "Where is that
abomination, Glass?"
"We're not abominations!" the condemned woman shouted.
The sadistic eugenicist sighed. "Look, you dumb bitch, there's no use trying to
sway anyone, especially that asshole. The motherfucker's bent." The scientist's
snickers evolved into maniacal, high pitched laughter. "Well, Spears, I assume
you're looking for 'Frosty'." He shrugged as he filled a syringe full of a foul
smelling, pale orange mixture. "She's around here somewhere." A sinister grin
accompanied his all too casual tone of voice.
"Mr. Glass, I suggest you tell me where it is," the black haired pruner wielder
ordered gruffly.
The Empath's bright blue eyes darkened as his sinister grin fell into an
annoyed frown. "You're persistent, aren't you." The words were spat out as a
statement rather than a question from the twisted mouth of an equally twisted
eugenicist. He tugged a chain hidden from view and the lavender weapon emerged
from a hidden place in the lab with a heavy leather collar around her neck.
Faint, red stains dotted the front of her thin, white cotton gown from a
freshly healed Y-incision. She stopped and sat on her legs with her head bowed
in submission once she was in full view of all occupants in the room.
"Satisfied, Mr. Spears?" the rogue hissed. "Say hi, 'Frosty'."
"Hi, 'Frosty'," the broken woman grunted.
"Now then, Miss, I mean, Mr. Spears," the blond mocked with cheerful sadism.
"'Frosty's' gonna do what she does best to that bastard on the floor while I
poison that one on the table. Now, as an added bonus, I'm gonna cut the bitch
open and see what makes her tick while the poison courses through her veins."
The blue glow of the scientist's eyes shined like the sun as he held up the
syringe. Maddening giggles flew out of his mouth as he injected the blue haired
girl with the foul smelling poison. "Now it's her turn." He yanked twice on the
chain. "In there," he ordered icily, pointing at the door leading to another
"white room".
The petite ducked just in time to avoid the male thrown into the room with her
at the single thought of her tormentor. Immediately, her jewel toned irises
became sharp obsidian when she recognized him as one of the blasphemers who
violated her on the day she became a woman.
~I remember you.~ Her soft, airy voice drilled into the blue eyed man's
subconscious. ~I remember your blasphemy.~
"What are you talking about?" the lowly scientist questioned.
~How you so 'rudely' welcomed me into my womanhood along with the rest of your
friends and that pervert in there.~ The entirety of the female's eyes became
black as pitch as she stood motionless, expressionless before her violator.
~You dare rape a Daughter of the Goddess?~
Repentant tears rolled down his face as he removed a switchblade from his
jacket. "Forgive me." His hands wandered to his eyes on their own.
~I show no mercy to blasphemers. Do not dare look upon me, you filthy piece of
shit.~
Understanding the weapon's vengeful orders, the blue eyed rapist jammed the
switchblade into one eye and scooped it out followed by the other.
~Never speak another lying word again.~ The soft, airy voice corkscrewed in his
mind, forcing him to understand her instructions.
If the Empath's eyes were still in his skull, they would catch a glimpse of the
frozen weapon's shocked, mismatched lights brimming with terror as she beheld
the deep gash in his throat just before blue faded to gray.
"Well, that wasn't interesting at all," the eugenicist complained, referring to
the splayed open weapon with lifeless gray staring at the ceiling. "My toy was
a helluva lot more fun than researching this useless thing."
The stone faced manager adjusted his glasses with complete disinterest. "If
you'll excuse me, I'd like to get on with my job so I can leave. I'm not in the
mood for any more overtime."
"Yeah, sure, Spears, get on with it," the blue eyed pervert replied
dismissively, earning an annoyed huff from the pruner wielding man.
The "forgotten" Rarity in the "white room" could see the abuse meted out by the
clean cut reaper on her blue haired Sister's Cinematic Records as it was being
collected by her very abuser. She uttered a soft prayer to the Goddess on
behalf of her murdered Sister and averted her eyes when the End Credits
approached.
~Did they forget about me or did they turn the lights off on purpose so they
could force me to watch my Sister in the Goddess live and die in absolute
horror?~
***** Research *****
Chapter Notes
     January/Stella's innermost thoughts
     William T. Spears' innermost thoughts
     Hi, and thanks for the reads. Hopefully, you've read part 1 for
     context.
     Time for another anatomy lesson regarding our protagonist, only this
     time it's much kinder to the senses.
     Enjoy.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
On the dawn of her thirty sixth year, the lavender Rarity was called upon to
act as an arbiter of another blue eyed blasphemer's destruction. Again, she was
forced to watch through the two way mirror in a darkened "white room" as the
Glass object destroyed the dark skinned weapon with disheveled locks of fire
laid out on an exam table. The winter weapon violently vomited as she witnessed
the perverse treatment of her Sister in the Goddess as her dilated,
heterocromatic lights faded to gray. Upon completion of the pervert's act, the
clean cut reaper stepped in to begin collection, barely holding in his disgust
at having witnessed such perversion. The weapon's eyes widened in shock as the
dark skinned Rarity's Cinematic Records played before her very eyes. There she
was with the forgery of the "pretty one" and her burst of spring seldom seen,
enjoying themselves in the heat of passion; the latter more so than the former
by an exponentially wide margin. As if reading her thoughts, or maybe it was
just her imagination, the pruner wielding master of cruelty seemed to slow that
period of time in the flame haired woman's life down to a crawl as if he was
forcing her to watch the green haired girl's eyes burn with crazed lust as she
overpowered the dominant male with the power of her mind and body.
~Mae actually likes being with him?~
Delicate hands clamped over her mouth to stifle a scream once the records moved
on to the next scene when she beheld the irate reaper thrashing the dark
skinned redhead over and over to the point of near unconsciousness simply
because she bore just the tiniest resemblance to the red reaper. Not one
terrified Rarity came to her aid until the fearsome tyrant made his egress. The
wrath of spring whispered reassuring words in the burning ember's ear, then
rose to her feet with righteous indignation aflame in her almond shaped
heterocromatic eyes. She scanned the cowering women with a scowl on her face
and began preaching that she-
~I, me.~
-would free them, and if she-
~I, me.~
-couldn't, she-
~I, me.~
-would avenge them in the name of the Goddess. As the dead Rarity's records
approached the End Credits, the petite averted her eyes, unable to bear witness
to the sight of such perverse blasphemy a second time. She uttered a soft
prayer to the Goddess to accept Her Daughter into the Divine Light and to
avenge her death. Large, glowing, lupine eyes widened in fear when she observed
the stern Dispatch manager pocket a small, unnecessary, sharp object.
~Oh Goddess, no!~
                                    xxxxxx
The female sat alone in the darkened "white room" with her thoughts and a
crudely self eviscerated corpse of another one of the male Empaths. The once
rich blue glow of his eyes faded to gray on a pale face with a lying,
blasphemous mouth twisted in a pained grimace of terror and last minute regret.
Out of morbid boredom, she poked his disembodied heart with the tip of her toe.
"Filth," she grumbled under her breath. "Filthy, ugly little heart. You will
burn in Her Holy Hatred, forever rejected by Her." She sighed and looked back
into the strange mirror. The dark haired, tyrant manager was gone for the time
being only to be replaced by a different dark haired manager and another
eugenicist equally as perverted as the blond. She cautiously scooted closer to
the strange glass on a covert mission for the truth behind their muffled words.
"She's missing parts, Mr. Gaines," the blond's muffled voice stressed.
"I still don't see why we can't start collecting tissue samples now," the dark
haired eugenicist huffed.
"'Doc', 'Frosty's' missing her inner parts," the blond stressed once again.
The imposing reaper pinched the bridge of his nose, ponytail bobbing as he
shook his head with growing frustration. "So, you're telling me there will be
further delays just because the thing's missing useless reproductive organs?
Those fucking creatures are born sterile, so what difference does it make if
one of them popped out of her mama's-"
"That's not all, Gaines," the blond sharply interrupted. "'Frosty' has two
hearts and two pairs of optic nerves! Of course, as is natural to our race, she
still has no 'blind spot'."
"What!" the dark haired reaper cried out in disbelief.
"You heard me," the usually cheerful sadist snidely replied. "According to
my...hands on..." He paused, snickering at his own perverted pun. "...research,
the 'Prototype' is the only one with this odd anatomical configuration. The
last two weapons destroyed were arranged normally. I just finished dissecting
that one's eyes and confirmed that it only has a single pair of optic nerves,
and of course, it lacks a 'blind spot'."
The reaper shot the Empaths a confused expression. "The absence of a 'blind
spot' within the retina gives our race the natural glow in our eyes," the dark
haired rogue explained. "He's saying that she's got nothing wrong with the
internal structure of her eyes, just a second pair of optic nerves."
"Yes, and it's similar in structure to those of reapers," the blond rogue
continued.
The high ranking reaper's chartreuse eyes went wide in total disbelief behind
gold framed glasses. "How in the hell does she have the same optic nerves as my
race without double irises? Furthermore, how did you obtain this information?"
Both blue eyed men smiled slyly at their superior. "I had the pleasure of
dissecting the carcass that played daddy to the bitch and your little play
toy," the dark eugenicist said with a wheezy laugh and cruelly glowing blue
eyes. "And he made use of those fun probes on those huge eyes of hers. I'm so
jealous."
"Get to the point, you two," the crude reaper huffed.
"To put it bluntly, 'Frosty' can see those Cinematic Records your people are so
obsessed with," the blond pervert concluded.
The ponytailed manager still had a difficult time registering everything the
eugenicists just divulged to him. "Do you suppose that's why her eyes are so
damn huge?"
The two Empaths snickered amongst themselves. "Gee, boss, we're not sure, but I
think you know who to ask," the black haired pervert sarcastically replied with
a wheezing laugh.
"With that being said," the blond eugenicist spoke loudly, garnering the other
men's attention. "I think it would be a prudent idea to delay taking some of
'Frosty's' tissue until I confirm whether or not this is an anatomical anomaly.
I need at least two more subjects to confirm my findings. You know, the strange
configuration of her organs could explain the incident I heard about with the
archangel," the immoral man stated thoughtfully.
The black haired reaper considered the eugenicist's request, eyes angrily
narrowing with each passing moment.
"Mr. Gaines, if you want 'Project 0' to be successful, you'll grant my
request," the blond demanded in an uncharacteristically calm voice, earning a
quirked eyebrow from the reaper. "You wouldn't want shitty clones going about
realms, would you?"
"No, Mr. Glass, I'm going to deny your request. The 'Prototype' has two hearts.
Take one of them, and if she dies, both of you are dying with her. I'm not
risking exposure of myself or this project. Moreover, I will not tolerate any
more delays," the imposing reaper countered. He eyed the other men, expecting
objections, receiving none, he continued with his orders. "Since no one
objects, we know what must be done. 'Doc', bring Spears back here, then meet me
in the lab on the other side of the complex. He'll need to escort her back to
her quarters. Glass, you know where to go. I'll stay here with her until Spears
arrives and then I'll meet you all in the lab and we'll go from there."
                                    xxxxxx
The bloodstained Rarity snapped out of her daze as bright light flooded the
"white room". Her glowing eyes went wide in fear as the intimidating reaper
with the long, black ponytail casually strode into the room, paying no mind to
the disemboweled corpse as he continued his approach. She instinctively backed
away from the man as he moved closer until she hit a wall. Realizing the
intimidating male had her literally backed into a corner, silent tears streamed
down her face in salty sweet rivers. She remained frozen in fear of punishment
as the high ranking reaper sat down in front of her, chartreuse eyes sweeping
over her blood splattered petite frame. "Are you going to punish me?" the
frequently asked question came out a terrified whisper.
"Only if you want me to," the reaper responded in a distasteful attempt at
seduction, which earned him a powerful weapon breaking down and collapsing in
on itself.
"I thought I did a good job today. Why am I...Can you drug me first?" the
experiment pleaded between violent, quaking sobs. She flinched when the
reaper's slender fingers gently stroked her hair.
"I see that was in poor taste. To answer your question truthfully, I'm not here
to punish you. I'm here to make simple conversation." With some effort, he
managed to lift the weaponized winter's head up from between drawn knees. Her
fearfully curious mismatched light met his bright double irises, and for some
unknown reason, his greedy heart skipped a beat. "Such beautiful, strange
eyes," he whispered, completely unaware of the closing distance between himself
and the cornered petite.
"Mr. Gaines, what are you doing?"
Silence was her response from the eerily seductive male as his soft hands
gently cupped her face and intently studied her curiously glowing emerald and
sapphire eyes. His thin black eyebrows knitted together in concentration as he
leaned in close enough to kiss her. The reaper's bright eyes narrowed as though
he was searching for something of great significance. The petite's obsession
ignited along with the lights of her hypnotic eyes when the high ranking
reaper's fingers inadvertently slipped through her hair as he moved her head in
one direction then the other on his mysterious quest. "No, just one set of
irises," he muttered to himself. "How in the hell can she have a second pair of
optic nerves like mine without the second pair of irises?"
"What did you say?" asked the confused Rarity.
"Nothing important," the curious reaper replied as he went on studying the
experiment's intensifying blue and green glow.
"Why must you look so closely at my eyes?"
The reaper slowly backed away from the lavender haired petite with dilated
eyes, clearly unable to break free of the heterocromatic hypnotic light. "I
don't know...They're just so...beautiful..." he replied from an alternate
reality.
Giving in to her obsession, the frozen winter storm hesitantly reached out and
ran her delicate fingers down the length of the reaper's long, midnight
ponytail in guilty pleasure. "I think you have pretty hair," she admitted.
"Whatever it is you're doing to me, don't stop," the raven haired reaper
murmured.
"You want to fuck me, don't you?" the weapon flatly asked of the other. "I
don't want anyone except for Mae."
"At least let me taste you...please," the enraptured forgery of a legend
begged. "Gods, what power those beautiful eyes possess..."
The female cut the imposing reaper off with a dominating kiss, unbinding his
ponytail as she overpowered him. She failed to stifle a pleasured moan as she
raked her fingers through black silk. With one of his hands drifting up the
back of her thigh in search of its rightful place on her hip and the other
gently nestling into lavender locks, the imposing reaper covertly propped the
petite onto his lap. The Rarity grabbed a fistful of midnight and pulled back
hard, exposing the pale flesh of his neck to her hungry eyes. As he had done
unto her so many years ago, she would do unto him now as she gleefully paid him
back the bite he had given her just behind the right ear. He whimpered and
quickly covered it with a growling moan as she tasted the secret pleasure he
took in being dominated, especially by those of her race. She broke away with a
ghostly smile on her face. "You like being dominated."
"How do you know?" a wide eyed senior manager suspiciously questioned.
"I could sense it in you," the petite responded with averted eyes. "Do you
really think my eyes are beautiful?" She peered up at the black haired reaper
as he was reapplying his trademark ponytail.
Stunned silence hung in the air until loud knocking broke the stillness. The
high ranking reaper slowly withdrew from the Rarity. "You're right, but keep it
to yourself," he whispered. "Between us, I think much more than your eyes are
beautiful, but that's our secret. I have a reputation to uphold, you know." He
placed a soft kiss just below her ear, then whispered to her again, "Hesse
isn't over you. It amuses me, but I pity him as well. He's more than in love
with you. He worships you. I don't know why I'm telling you this, but like I
said, I pity the little bastard." The crude reaper stood up and gave the
tearful petite a chaste kiss before opening the door to the sight of his
uptight subordinate.
The clean cut man quirked a quizzical brow at his superior. "Sir?"
"Really, Spears, you have got to be shitting me!" the high ranking male
exclaimed. "Someone needed to keep her company without harming her until you
got back here. Besides, if I fucked her, it's none of your business. So, keep
your uptight nose out of other people's personal lives and just do your goddamn
job, which is taking her back to her quarters. She's done for the day." He
glanced back at the prototype as he adjusted his gold framed glasses. "Will you
remove that collar and chain! Whose idea was that anyway? Her skin is getting
chafed. Do you want it to get infected? I expect my best weapons to be in top
shape and that means they must be in peak physical condition and in excellent
health. See to it that it is removed when she arrives at her quarters. I'm late
for a meeting."
The pruner wielding manager inwardly smirked, knowing he now had a prime
opportunity to take out more of his hatred on the frightened petite staring at
him from behind his boss. He affectionately squeezed the pole of his Death
Scythe with his right hand as he slipped his left into his blazer pocket and
softly pat the unnecessary object with power hungry lust for murderous revenge
coursing through his veins. "Yes, sir," the emotionless reaper calmly complied,
glaring at the petite.
#You'll meet your destruction early, you ugly bitch. Consider it payment for
stealing him from me!#
"You will come with me," the tyrant manager gruffly ordered the cowering
Rarity. "Now!"
Chains rattled at his harsh command as the submissive petite was led down an
unfamiliar corridor like a dog by the heavy leather collar and chain leash that
had become a humiliating symbol of her unnecessary submission. Quiet tears
trickled down the broken woman's face as she thought of her and everything she
gave up so that she might live. Everything, including her own sense of self.
~I am his object...for her...for Mae.~
Chapter End Notes
     If anyone is interested, this is a link to a short article regarding
     the "blind spot" that naturally occurs in the human eye. It's pretty
     interesting for a short article. I know most people won't be
     interested in a long, drawn out article about the eye, so, yeah, here
     ya go. Hopefully, you can see where I got the idea to modify Emapth
     and Rarity eyes. If you got it, you get cookies.
     http://www.scholarpedia.org/article/The_Blind_Spot
     You'll probably have to copy and paste the link into your browser
     window.
***** Envy *****
Chapter Notes
     January/Stella's innermost thoughts ~
     William T. Spears' innermost thoughts #
     Thanks for reading my wonderful, twisted tale of twisty twistedness.
     I hope you all enjoyed the previous chapter's fun anatomy lesson.
     *giggles* Who's ready to see William's emotional turmoil boil over in
     the name of unrequited love for Undertaker? I know I am.
     Enjoy.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
#'She'...since when did Gaines start addressing that thing as 'she'?#
The experiment walked behind the emotionless reaper in silent submission as
apprehension built in her core with each step she took. She knew his rage was
boiling to the surface because he was forced to escort her to her quarters per
his boss' order. She sensed the male's thirst for revenge increasing because
the long haired manager referred to her as a woman instead of an object. The
weapon knew by the way the irate manager carried himself that she was going to
be on the receiving end of his misdirected anger. When he jerked the chain
connected to the thick leather collar chafing her neck, she knew her punishment
was going to be mercilessly brutal, especially because they were heading toward
that room. She was acutely aware that this would be no ordinary punishment
because the man in the suit with the strange weapon had with him an
unnecessarily sharp object containing that which is meant to destroy the
borders between reality and fantasy.
~How many times have I been injected with that over the years? Tiny amounts,
little by little, just to watch me dream while I'm awake...~
"It seems you managed to whore yourself out to Gaines again," the stone faced
reaper accused without turning around. "I assume you seduced him so you could
get to his play toy." Metal on metal clicked as he adjusted his steel framed
glasses with the tip of his pruning shears. "Honestly, those oversized light up
toys should be ripped out of your deformed skull. As you are now aware, we are
taking a detour before we reach your quarters."
The petite ceased all forward motion, quickly taking hold of the heavy chain to
prevent herself from falling. Mismatched eyes blazed behind the lavender
curtain of her bowed head as angry tears streamed down her face. "Why? Why must
you go on punishing me? I've done nothing you've accused me of with Mr. Gaines.
I have nothing against your people. I have never wronged you, yet you loathe
me. I never do anything right in your eyes. No matter how compliant I am, you
still punish me. Why, Mr. Spears?" the Rarity demanded in curiously soft fury.
The irate reaper's pruners extended at blinding speed, pinning the startled
woman to the wall. A tiny squeak vacated her mouth when she realized her bare
feet were no longer touching the ground. Unquenchable lust for vengeance and
pure, unadulterated hatred glared at the dangling weapon from gold and green
eyes that murder and lie. "How many times have I told you my reasons, you
stupid bitch? Because you stole him from me!" the tyrant yelled. Murderous fury
glared at the pinned petite as the enraged man continued his envious outpouring
of unrequited love for a legend she no longer remembered. "You touched his hair
when I wanted to! You kissed him when I wanted to-and I could care less that it
was on the cheek! What's worse is that he returned it!" The reaper's menacing
glare darkened as a malicious snarl graced his features. "You were close enough
to look into his beautiful eyes when I wanted to be! He whispered sweet words
in your ear when I wanted him to! He caressed your face when I wanted him to!
He fell for your flattery, but spurned my love for him!" He squeezed the handle
of the pruning shears with a slight amount of pressure just to watch blood flow
between the collar and the surface of her chafed skin. An uncharacteristically
sadistic grin blended with the grotesque snarl on the manager's face, gave him
the appearance of the unnecessary shadow plaguing the icy weapon in her
nightmares. "I don't care that you were a child at the time, so don't throw
that in my face! I know for a fact that the man has no preference for either
gender, so don't throw that in my face either! He's a libertine just like that
other bastard you whored yourself out to as well as that traitor that played
'daddy' to you and your slut for a girlfriend! You stole him from me!"
The terrified woman searched her faulty memory while the vengeful reaper's
stoic mask disappeared, revealing the demon hidden beneath. As soon as she
found her voice, she seized an opportunity to offer her rebuttal to the spurned
reaper's accusations. "I don't know who you're talking about!" she desperately
cried out.
"Lying whore!" the enraged manager roared. "You know very well who I'm
referring to. You always demand the 'pretty one'! Why do you think I stopped
giving you wormwood? You are a thief and a whore like the rest of the trash of
your race. Do not let my boss' slip of the tongue go to your head. I do not
capitulate to lowly objects such as yourself, and you will do well to remember
that. You are not special. You are not worthy of affection.
#His affection.#
You are not worthy of happiness.
#With him.#
You are not worthy of freedom.
#To be with him.#
You are nothing but a worthless object; a science project gone awry, too
unstable, and, dare I admit, too powerful for your own good. I look forward to
the day I finally see your destruction," the suited reaper seethed in clearly
visible homicidal rage. "Honestly, Hesse must be delusional to give an
abomination like you a sense of personhood. How preposterous! What was it he
called you? Oh, that's right, his 'beautiful love'," the manager cruelly
mocked, rubbing salt of the shadow's betrayal in the Rarity's reopened wound.
The reaper's rage burned gold and green flames from narrowed eyes. "There is
nothing beautiful about you, you ugly bitch. Keep your place, and never speak
out against me again or I'll kill your filthy girlfriend and make you watch."
The lavender sadness dropped to the ground in an awkward heap among the
clanging of heavy chains as the tyrant's Death Scythe retracted and clicked
into place, signalling to its owner that it was prepared for its next command.
Under his fearsome glare, the petite rose to her feet on shaking legs with
rebellious tears falling from glowing blue and green eyes. She silently nodded
in submission, indicating that she understood the male's threat. With a dark
scowl and curt nod, the clean cut manager turned on his heel and resumed his
brisk march down twisting corridors to that room. He muttered words of
vengeful, envious contempt as he practically dragged the broken woman behind
him, not caring about the trail of blood left in their wake.
~Who is this 'pretty one'? If I 'stole' him, why am I not with him? Why do I
feel like I should know who he is, but my memory of him seems to have
disappeared?~
Chapter End Notes
     Isn't misdirected anger fun? *sarcasm*
***** Hypoxia *****
Chapter Notes
     Stella/January's innermost thoughts ~
     Yurei/Ikiryo's thoughts/communication =
     William T. Spears' innermost thoughts #
     Emily's innermost thoughts +
     Thanks for the reads. Sorry for the slow update. I was in birthday
     mode, so I was being lazy. Then, I had some health issues pop up. Not
     fun at all. Nevertheless, I have returned.
     This chapter is unkind to the senses. It contains abuse, drugged
     rape, non con bondage, humiliation, and attempted murder perpetrated
     by an extremely OOC William T. Spears. (Sorry Will fans) ***You have
     been warned.***
     Enjoy.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
A coral overdose of the solution to destroying the boundary between the
realities of consciousness and the subconscious gnawed at the weapon's
neurological powerhouse. Synapses misfired while strange sensations felt only
in dreams overtook her body. Colors blurred, sharpened, changed shapes and
hues, yet somehow she could still see the waking world the dream superimposed
itself upon. As the coral cocktail coursed through her bloodstream, the cold,
cruel reaper chained her to a metal support beam overhead by the humiliating
chain leash and thick, leather collar encircling her neck. Only the very tips
of the petite's bare toes kept her from strangling herself by the humiliating
symbol of submission. Her sense of self awareness regarding that fact gradually
ebbed away once the drug completely sunk into her reality.
A reflective glint of light bounced off of lenses in rectangular frames,
obscuring the wearer's eyes. An exasperated sigh escaped the other's lips in an
effort to remain as calm as possible while dealing with the reality confused
female.
~Who is me? What is he? Madness is eye(s).~
Winter's clarity completely disappeared as two realities completely converged.
Silver veiling black slowly paced back and forth in the dimly lit room.
Unnecessary shadows hid the ugliest parts from her as he paced one way, but
light exposed it when he paced the other. With the boundary lost between real
and unreal, so was the experiment's judgement. The tall, pacing man was
impatiently waiting for the hypoxic female to acknowledge him.
~Is he the 'pretty one', I wonder? I will kill him one day. Teeth.~
=I am me. You are you. I preserve the pretty memories they make you forget. I
will not relinquish that which does not belong to them. You are you. I am me.=
"Do I know you?" The Rarity's vocal inflection indicated genuine confusion when
she finally acknowledged the other presence in the room. Her muddled blue and
green eyes darted around the room, seeking out her tormentor. "Hey, do I know
you? I don't like this game."
The Dispatch manager narrowed his eyes at the disoriented Rarity and pinched
the bridge of his nose beneath his steel framed glasses in mounting irritation.
Readjusting his glasses for the thousandth time, he prepared for war.
"'Do I know you?" the woman's slurred question echoed from between realities.
"Perhaps you do. We met many years ago," the lying reaper answered in a low
voice. "Do you remember what those words were that were whispered in your ear
that day? Those sweet words that made you smile?" Spurned envy glared at the
dazed, reality confused petite. The jealous, manipulative manager's eyebrow
twitched as his patience thinned. He wanted to run the abomination through with
his Death Scythe more than anything else in all the realms, but he cared too
much about his career to disobey orders.
With a mad grin plastered to the winter weapon's face, she giggled and said,
"My eyes..." Emerald and sapphire jewels dimmed as she trailed off, losing
herself in the dark underbelly between reality and fantasy.
                                    xxxxxx
The silver haired man stood back, tapping a finger on his chin as he
scrutinized the winter weapon strung up by the neck and at his mercy.
Suspension by the neck was much more amusing than by the wrists. Everyone
suspends their prey by the wrists. Besides, the girl claimed she was into kink.
"Hello, Lovely," the silver reaper greeted.
"I don't like this game. I can't see you," the vulnerable woman complained.
"I can see you."
"But, I want to see you. I want to touch your beautiful silver hair once again.
I want to look into your piercing, green eyes that never lie. I want you," the
dangling petite pleaded. "I have missed you so much."
The legendary reaper smirked at the hung woman. "My kinky little lovely one
wants me," he teased. "How sweet." The male wrapped an arm around the petite's
slim waist and pressed himself against her. "I can't say that I agree with your
sentiments," he stated in an uncharacteristically monotone voice.
Panic set in when the experiment realized the tips of her toes were no longer
on the floor. "W-what?" she stammered at the man with her life in his hands. "I
thought...I don't..." Angry, dejected tears flowed down the speechless Rarity's
face.
"You thought what?" the tall reaper harshly questioned as he spun the petite
around to face him. "That I love you? Honestly, whatever gave you that idea?"
he scoffed. Long fingers locked tight into lavender tresses. "No one loves you.
No one ever will, you vile creature." On impulse, he bit the icy project's
neck, internally smirking at the soft, pleasured moans from his teeth sinking
into her skin.
#Sick little masochist.#
"No," the female mumbled. "There's no silver. It's not there." Twin hearts
raced in panic as she took in the scent of the impostor's hair. "No, the
smell's wrong. No! No! No! No! You're not him! You're not him! You're not the
'pretty one'! LIAR! BLASPHEMER! Get away from ME!"
                                    xxxxxx
"...You're not him! You're not the 'pretty one'! LIAR! BLASPHEMER! Get away
from ME!" the flailing petite shrieked.
"Never...willingly...touch...you...blasphemer!" Mismatched eyes rolled back in
her head as the experimental weapon passed out, blue faced, starved of oxygen,
and dangling from an overhead beam by a humiliating symbol of submission.
#The lying monster does remember him! On top of that, the drug must be wearing
off.#
"Honestly," the irate reaper grumbled, wiping blood from his healing split lip.
"Why Gaines wants this abomination alive is beyond my comprehension." He
roughly removed the petite from the overhead beam and smirked at the sound of
her collarbone breaking as she ricocheted off the metal table to the floor in a
disgraceful heap. The clean cut reaper with poisonous revenge pumping in his
veins from a loathing heart glared down at the unconscious woman and took the
opportunity to kick her as much as his heart desired. He took immense pleasure
in the sound of her ribs cracking as the hard sole of his shoe impacted the
downed weapon with each violent motion. The female's flinching let him know she
was still alive, which irritated and invigorated him at the same time.
#Filthy, vile, abomination. Now you've managed to corrupt Gaines again. I saw
the way he looked at you. You're not going to flatter your way out of here.
I'll see to that personally. I'm going to kill you!#
A whisper so very soft that no mortal could hear escaped the female's lips. It
was a word easily misinterpreted, having nothing at all to do with anyone or
anything. A word that sent the black haired reaper into an unnecessary, boiling
hot rage.
"What did you just say?" the enraged manager growled.
~You forgot to shut the door, dumbass.~
"I thought I told you to never mention his name again!"
~What is a 'his'?~
Rich gold and green eyes flashed with pure jealous rage at the non functional
weapon. "Filthy whore!" the male seethed after receiving no response from the
hypoxic Rarity.
~=Sloppy. We could kill you and no one would ever know or find you.=~
~You forgot to shut the door, Mr. Neat King.~
In his blinding rage, the Dispatch manager tore the lavender haired woman from
her place on the floor and slammed her face down on the familiar metal table.
He had been far too fixated on vengeance to ensure privacy as he tore off the
petite's flimsy, white cotton gown. As she began regaining consciousness, he
swiftly secured her to the table by the heavy chain leash as tightly as he
could. While she choked under the pressure of the collar holding her down on
the table, the tyrant injected the remainder of the coral poison into her neck.
The Rarity shrieked as the cruel reaper invaded a place no appendage had any
business being. Each time she wept and screamed from the unwanted pain, the
invasion became more and more brutal. Each time she hurled accusations of
blasphemy against her tormentor or begged him to stop, he slammed her head into
the table in an attempt to silence her...permanently.
~Punishment. No matter where I am, no matter what, no matter who...All the
time, I am punished.~
Tormented screams caught the attention of a certain red reaper on her way down
the hall. She doubled back and peeked through the door of that room. Horrified
shock made itself at home on her face as she witnessed her so called love
interest remove himself from the weapon and leave his own personal mark on her
divine painting. "That sick son of a bitch!" she whispered to herself.
                                    xxxxxx
The petite awoke to the sound of a chainsaw cutting through metal. "'S'you,"
she slurred. "Come t'kill me?"
The red reaper unbuckled the thick, leather collar and examined the severely
damaged skin that was hidden beneath. "I'm not hear to kill you, dear," she
replied. "You poor girl. I saw what that cold hearted brute did to you.
I'm...I'm going to take you to Emily. She'll help you."
"Loved 'im, y'know...s'much, I did...th'd'vine fire'n'is eyes...love'm
s'much...don'member...," the Rarity softly slurred before entering a world of
total darkness.
Regret sank its claws in the redhead's conscience as she swiftly moved about
undetected. "I can't love a depraved monster like that anymore..."
                                    xxxxxx
The abnormally tall Empath examined the lavender haired woman as the anxious
red reaper continued her harrowing tale.
+Hmm...drug induced hypoxia. This is interesting.+
"...and he just left her there chained to the table, practically choking to
death by that collar and chain. He ripped that flimsy gown of hers to shreds,
too. It must have been absolutely humiliating for her! I wouldn't have paid
attention if I hadn't heard her screaming," the red reaper sighed. "And,
there's nothing I can do since I'm here as punishment. If I say anything or
screw up, it's off to the asylum with the 'useless red freak'."
The cynical albino embraced her anxiety ridden friend. "It's ok, Grell. I know
there's nothing you can do, but I thank you for bringing her to me."
The red reaper furrowed her brows as she looked down at the unblinking,
comatose weapon. "I feel so terrible for mistreating her, Emily. This whole
time I believed she was after Will, but in the end, he was the depraved monster
she said he was. I feel so foolish for being jealous of her. I can't love
someone like him anymore." The redhead let slip a bitter laugh. "It's rare for
me to regret something I've done to someone else, but in this case, I genuinely
regret disbelieving her."
The white haired woman completed the petite's blood sample analysis just as her
reaper friend finished her apologetic speech. "I know, Grell. I also know you
sympathize with her, but you're too proud to admit it." The female held her
hand up, preventing an oncoming denial from the red reaper. "I'm an Empath,
Grell, I can read minds and interpret emotions. We'll keep your sympathy for
January between us girls."
Red Death flashed a sharp toothed grin. "Our little secret."
"Our little secret," the other promised.
"It seems her injuries have healed on their own, but she still looks like a hot
mess. What do you suppose is wrong with her?" the concerned redhead asked.
The albino scientist glanced at the blood analysis results. With an angry glow
in her rich green eyes, she responded with three unethical words: "Drug induced
hypoxia."
"What on earth does that mean?" Toxic green, catlike eyes went wide,
anticipating the terrifying answer to come.
The albino took a deep breath to quell her rising anger. "Hypoxia, in short, is
deprivation of oxygen to the brain. In her case, she was given a fatal overdose
of HypNox-0. She should be dead."
The hot tempered redhead jumped to her feet, seconds away from manifesting her
chainsaw. "The hell you say!"
"Grell, don't even think about summoning your scythe in my lab. I assure you it
wasn't the perverts who did this to her. They want her of sound mind. Also,
Glass wouldn't waste his pride and joy on murdering his favorite toy." The
white lady tapped her temple. "I know what you're thinking. The drug is still
experimental. Although, it is useless in the grand scheme of things, it isn't
to its creator, which is why he isn't the culprit, nor is that asshole 'Doc'.
Your culprit is the depraved monster who raped her. It's the most simple and
logical of answers. He didn't take advantage of an easy target. He tried to
kill her. I'm not sure how he acquired the drug. I can only surmise it must
have been during an execution where Glass was present, but I don't have
evidence to back it up since he moves from lab to lab to carry out the orders.
Now then, I'd like to finish explaining January's prognosis."
The fuming red reaper took a seat next to her friend and gestured for her to
continue with an irritated huff.
Cynicism replaced the anger in perpetually sorrowful emerald lights as the
Empath continued. HypNox-0, when given in small doses, bridges the gap between
fantasy and reality. It allows the observer to watch a Rarity harmlessly act
out her dream in an isolated area. Long periods of time must pass between
experiments or insanity will set in, rendering the Rarity useless to the
project." The albino eugenicist glanced at another page in her analysis
results. "The only reason January is still alive is because the Ikiryo saved
her life. Unfortunately, it could not save her sanity. For her, fantasy will be
another reality. There will be times when she'll be stuck between the this
reality and another, alternate reality, and she'll require help to bring her
back. Sadly, the result is permanent as well as any memory loss unless the
Ikiryo managed to preserve them before the drug took effect," the scientist
concluded.
The effeminate god of death sat in silence, wrapping her pretty head around the
wealth of information regarding the unconscious experiment. "Sweet, merciful
Death! Why on earth would William do such a horrible thing to her out of all
the other girls here?"
+Because he thinks Legendary Death is his.+
"That, I do not know," the unusually tall Empath answered.
"Hey, Emily, why aren't January's eyes closed?" Worry was plainly written all
over the pretty red reaper's face as she watched over the unblinking Rarity.
"They are closed, Grell. Look." The eugenicist snapped on a pair of rubber
gloves and peeled back a thin, transparent membrane from one of the petite's
dim eyes. As it slipped back into place, Red Death swore she could see herself
in the slight, iridescent sheen shielding the dim green light below. "Inner
eyelids," the albino stated matter-of-factly. "All of our race have them."
The red reaper grimaced as she checked her watch. "Shit, I'm going to be late
for my regular shift. I'm not about to get my chainsaw taken from me again,
especially by that cruel beast," the furious redhead growled. "Is there
anything else I can do for January?"
"I'll take care of her, Grell," the albino assured. "She needs medical
attention from one of her own kind, and I don't trust those perverts."
"Em, I heard her screaming at William. I think it was something about blasphemy
and never willingly laying with someone like him. What is that supposed to
mean?"
"It means that cold bastard you thought you loved has been torturing her for a
very long time; ever since the day Hesse found her in that room. Furthermore,
and most importantly, it is high order blasphemy-a death sentence-for a Rarity
to lay with a man possessing hair shorter in length than the shoulders. I have
seen her starve, Grell. She considers that degenerate boss of yours and Martin
her enemies, but in times of famine, she welcomes insincere affection from
Martin," the white haired woman explained.
"Because he has long hair," the redhead guessed.
+And because Martin looks like Legendary Death. Though, he is outwardly cold to
her, something about her draws him to her. I must guard her well so her life
may be preserved.+
"And because to our race, starvation is denial of affection. For Rarities, it's
exponentially worse, which is why so many end up becoming masochists," the
scientist added. "January is a conflicted woman. All that she's loved has been
stolen from her, and in its place, pain remains. I think that may have been a
factor in your jealousy toward her. All she wants is affection, Grell." The
Empath paused to gather her thoughts. "You know, when she stayed with Martin
and me for that year, he never mistreated her. In fact, he treated her the same
way he treats me...almost as though he loved her. It was eerie, to say the
least. He was pissed beyond words when Hesse found her and took her in that
day. Martin may be a philanderer, but he is still quite possessive. I honestly
don't care about how he feels about me. He isn't Marcus. He'll never replace
him. No one can! Goddess, I miss that stubborn man." The eugenicist opened the
glass watch face and gazed longingly at the treasure inside. "Martin is an
envious man. It still angers me that he stood by and watched that son of a
bitch murder Marcus in front of the girls, yet he gave them preferential
treatment." She snapped the watch face closed. "It saddens me when he refers to
January as nothing more than property when he was once kind to her."
"It seems to me that Gaines gave January and May special treatment to make up
for what happened to Marcus," the redhead surmised. "Not necessarily for their
sake, but for yours. It seems something does beat in the asshole's chest after
all, even if it's for his own self interest. I don't understand why he
dehumanized January after Hesse took her in, though. It's out of the ordinary
for us to do that," Red Death remarked in reference to reapers' possessive
natures.
"Because he hates Hesse. Not just that, he fears him, too. I don't know why. He
just does. Possessiveness driven by envy is a dangerous thing, Grell."
"I can attest to that," Red Death stated with an ironic snicker.
"Grell, go on to work. I'll take care of everything. I'll also let you know how
January is progressing." Cynical eyes with a mournful sheen flicked up to the
lady in red. "We'll meet again tomorrow in our usual spot at our usual time."
"Sounds like a plan," the red reaper replied with forced enthusiasm. "If she
wakes before then, tell her I'm sorry."
Chapter End Notes
     Ooooh, more fun character insight. Fun, wasn't it? *grins*
***** Vulnerability *****
Chapter Notes
     January/Stella's innermost thoughts ~
     William T. Spears' innermost thoughts #
     Emily's innermost thoughts +
     Sorry for the super slow update. I'm still dealing with some health
     problems. The new medicine I've been given makes me really tired, so
     I haven't had a lot of energy lately. I still intend to finish the
     story, and I appreciate the reads and kudos. Thanks for sticking with
     it so far.
     This chapter is kinder to the senses. We're going to take a peek into
     my arrogant male OC's emotions. Yep, that Undertaker look-alike has a
     hidden soft side. Also, this is where the protagonist's madness
     begins. Past mention of rape and attempted murder contained within.
     ***You have been warned.***
     Enjoy!
The albino remained diligent in her duty as caretaker for the comatose Rarity.
So far, it appeared that there was no change to be expected of her condition.
All she could do was wait and hope the lavender haired woman could find her way
back to reality. The last thing she needed to top off her already heavy
workload, aside from a malfunctioning weapon, was the arrogant reaper's barrage
of questions concerning her dishonesty about the aforementioned weapon. The
female was used to his intimidation tactics, so she simply brushed it off and
went about her business reviewing a certain project's evaluation sheets.
"You could have come to me, you know," the reaper softly scolded. "You know I
can't refuse you, Em."
The eugenicist leaned into the reaper's embrace. "I left a report on your desk,
Martin...a very detailed report. I left my name out for obvious reasons, of
course."
The high ranking reaper snickered under his breath. "So, that was you?"
The Empath pushed herself away from the reaper. "Why do you think I hid her
from you? I mean, aside from the fact that you regard her as nothing more than
property! You clearly have no respect for her. At least you do a good job
pretending with her mate!" the albino snapped.
"Well, Spears isn't into women," the other retorted. "He's more of a backdoor
man, if you know what I mean."
Green flames blazed in the albino's eyes as she shoved the black haired reaper
against the wall. "Where the fuck do you think he put it, you idiot? Your
favorite employee didn't rape her for a quick fuck. He did it out of power
hungry vengeance fueled by raw jealousy, and he's been doing so for over twenty
years! It is your star employee's mission to make her life as miserable as
possible. I found out from those perverted pieces of shit it was Spears' idea
to put her in a collar and chain. They never explained why they went along with
it, considering their obsession with her having unblemished skin."
"Why didn't you put that in your report?"
"I just found it out recently." The eugenicist glared at the imposing reaper.
"Why should it matter to you anyway? You only think of her as a common whore,
especially when she returns your affection in her time of need."
In a rare moment of tenderness, the ponytailed reaper wrapped his arms around
the enraged albino in a warm, comforting embrace. He nuzzled her head with his
as he stroked her hair in a slow, soothing pace. "Emily, there's no need to get
so angry. I don't think so lowly of her as you believe," he whispered into the
abnormally tall Empath's hair. "I love you, Em." He lifted the calmed woman's
head up, regarding her with seldom seen sincerity in his bright chartreuse
eyes. "I mean it, Emily. If you were mine, I would forgo all others."
The green eyed eugenicist would have smiled if the words were coming from
another reaper's lips. "That means quite a bit coming from you."
"That I can't deny." The raven haired reaper kissed the albino with sudden,
unexpected sweetness.
+What has gotten into him all of a sudden?+
"What would you have me do? You can't keep her couped up in here for obvious
reasons. According to your report, upon awakening, she'll need someone to
prevent her from becoming trapped between realities. With your heavy workload
on Project 0, I don't think you'll be able to properly handle such a task." The
black haired, high ranking manager approached the makeshift cot the unblinking
Rarity laid upon. "I wonder what it is she's dreaming of?" he quietly mused.
"Why do you ask?" the eugenicist questioned, joining the reaper at the Rarity's
"bedside".
"I think she's crying, Em," the chartreuse eyed reaper whispered with a hint of
alarm creeping into his deep, resonant voice.
The green eyed scientist observed sporadic streams of unconscious tears slip
down the weapon's pallid cheeks from dully glowing, mismatched eyes slowly
beginning to regain their brilliance. She grimaced as she checked the time on
her treasured watch. "Damn. Martin, she's going to awaken soon. Can you take
care of her, just this once, please?" Her subtly intense green lights locked
onto the high ranking reaper's chartreuse double irises. "She needs a dark room
so the lights don't hurt her eyes. Be good to her for me, Martin."
"You always know how to get what you want out of me, my dear. Of course, I'll
care for her," the reaper obliged. "I don't know what it is you do to me, but
don't stop."
"I know," she responded with a dispassionate kiss.
The male scooped the petite out of the cot and bundled her in his black velvet
coat. "I'll do what I can to keep her and Spears separated," he promised before
exiting the eugenicist's lab.
"I certainly hope you will," she replied lowly.
                                    xxxxxx
The distinctive black ponytail swaying back and forth with every step the
imposing, high ranking reaper took caught the attention of his subordinate as
he briskly walked through the winding corridors of the laboratory complex
hidden beneath the catacombs. The Dispatch manager eyed the suspicious bundle
in his boss' arms with narrowed green and gold eyes. A long, thick tendril of
lavender slipped out of the black bundle in the long haired man's arms.
#That damn abomination is still alive! I had hoped I had finally destroyed it!
It even whores itself out in its sleep, too, no doubt trying to earn sympathy
from Gaines. What a repulsive creature! I must get to the bottom of this
foolishness!#
The arrogant reaper growled in irritation when he heard his subordinate
approaching from behind. He did his best to ignore the low ranking manager and
kept his focus on tending to the lavender tendril that snuck out of its
designated area. "There you go, beautiful," he softly whispered to the sleeping
winter beauty. He tenderly kissed her forehead once he had replaced the runaway
lavender lock. "Such beautiful, strange eyes," he whispered in admiration as he
covered her face with dark, velvet softness. The older male instinctively
clutched the woman of mass destruction tighter against his chest at the sound
of the younger's clearing throat. "What do you want, Spears?" he greeted icily.
Angry, chartreuse eyes flashed a murderous glare at the young manager as he
possessively held the petite closer.
"Sir, Mr. Glass is growing impatient with his inability to conduct research on
that thing you're toting about," the stoic reaper lied.
"You're so full of shit, Spears. That had to have been the most brazen lie I've
ever heard!" the black haired ancient scoffed. "C'mon, tell me how you really
feel. You have feelings don't you? I'm sure if I open you up with my katana,
I'll find organs, won't I? Or will I find useless circuit boards and various
other things that make a machine in the shape of a man? So, be honest with me
and I'll let you live."
#The ancients truly are insane! At least I'm not stuck with his boss.#
"Don't you think you're being a little too possessive with that thing? It's
highly inappropriate for someone of your rank. Wouldn't you agree, sir?"
"I don't give a fuck, Spears!" the reaper with the Rarity replied in venomous
anger. He turned to face his shocked, yet still expressionless subordinate.
"You can drop your goddamn fucking stoic act because I'm sure you were plenty
expressive when you did this to her!" The imposing male peeled back the velvet
coat, exposing the same unblinking stare that had been the experiment's mask
for the past two years. "Do you have any idea what drug you pumped her full of?
Do you? I bet you do, and I bet you could care less. If it weren't for her
being the 'Prototype', she'd be dead and so would we because word gets around
quick. Did you think of that while you were busy humiliating her? Fucking
moron!" The black haired reaper covered the petite's head again, taking care to
tuck each strand of lavender into its rightful place. A subtle pulse of light
accompanied by sporadic rivulets streaming from the corners of unblinking
heterocromatic eyes hit a secret soft spot in the older male's heart. "It's ok,
I'm here. I won't let him hurt you," he whispered in inaudible softness.
"Mr. Gaines, sir, I had my reasons for punishing that abomination," the irate
manager defiantly bit out.
"Reason enough to kill?" the other challenged.
"That thing was asking for it!" the pruner wielder spat.
"No she wasn't, Spears," the high ranking manager calmly replied. "Only you
would think that. By the way, she'll be working with Sutcliff from now on," he
added with a snide smirk.
The clean cut reaper's glove made the irritating creaking noise that sent his
internal rage to the boiling point, which was only externally expressed by a
twitching eyebrow and a ghost of a sneer. "Why, may I ask, is your 'prized
weapon' going to be working with a useless freak like Sutcliff?"
"Because I can't trust you with her." The reaper glared chartreuse daggers
through gold framed glasses at his subordinate. "Now, get out of here and work
on that overabundance of paperwork you bitch about all the time. I have more
important things to do than waste my time with you," the smugly smirking reaper
condescended as he pushed past the lower ranked manager. As he rounded the
corner to a more private place in the corridors, the raven haired reaper
summoned his Death Scythe and made his unorthodox exit from beneath the
catacombs.
The petite's tears were flowing in greater frequency as was the pulse in her
mismatched eyes. The secret soft spot in the black haired reaper's greedy heart
was touched once again as he returned to the guest room of his home. He studied
the lights of her eyes as he absently shook his long, midnight locks from the
high ponytail they had been confined in. "I wonder what this beautiful creature
is dreaming of?" he mused to himself.
                                    xxxxxx
~Out of focus. Where am I? What am I? Shifting shades.~
The reality confused petite slowly blinked her outer eyelids several times in a
feeble attempt to adjust to the unfamiliar surroundings in an unfamiliar gap in
realities. All she could see somewhat clearly was the shape of a somewhat
familiar reaper asleep beside her.
~Is that the 'pretty one'?~
She was also hyperaware of her famished state after being deprived of affection
for so long.
~His hair is soft.~
The Rarity gripped the sleeping reaper by the throat and stared through him
rather than at him. "Mine," she stated flatly. Before the dazed reaper had a
chance to respond, she captured his lips in a sadistic, lust fueled kiss. Long,
inky tendrils slid through delicate fingers, clothes slid off smooth skin,
rationality slid away from reality, and reality slid further away from the
Rarity's grip as she indulged in the forgery of a legend.
~The face is the same. The hair is the same, but the color is wrong and the
scent is wrong. The body isn't quite right and the eyes are too bright. But the
face is identical. I don't understand. Is he...He can't be...No, he's
the...He's my enemy! He's here to punish me!~
"STOP! Don't touch me anymore! You don't belong! You aren't the 'pretty one'.
You're here to punish me. I've done nothing wrong. I've obeyed. I don't
understand what you want. Why do you hate me? Make me watch my Sister die..."
the paranoid petite shrieked. She quickly covered her nude body with the bed
sheets and scrambled away from the bewildered reaper. "Don't punish me, please.
I didn't do anything wrong. I was good today. I was obedient. I did not argue.
I'm sorry I threw up, but after what that...that bastard did to my Sister's
corpse..."
The high ranking manager gently coaxed the reality confused female back into
his arms. "I'm not going to punish you, Stella," he promised. "I want you to
come back to me, beautiful. You're not here right now."
"I'm here."
"Tell me, where is here?"
"Lab."
"No, you're in my home away from the lab. What you're describing happened two
years ago," the reaper informed.
Somehow, those words shocked the petite into the current reality. Fresh tears
boiled to the surface as she hung her head in shame.
~How could I have been so foolish? Waking up and thinking he was the 'pretty
one' because their faces are the same...I'm that famished, yes, but have I
become so stupid that I would mistake an enemy for someone I am fated to love,
even if I can't remember his name? How is it that he can sit idly by and treat
me so kindly? And where's the missing time? I hate this vulnerable
feeling...the kind where I'm clueless to everything, but still expected to know
it all.~
"It's ok, beautiful. I'm here," the raven haired reaper cooed, taking the
trembling woman into a warm, comforting embrace. "I won't punish you. I
promise. No more tears."
"Mr. Gaines? What-"
"Martin," he cut the girl off. "You may call me Martin tonight since it's just
the two of us. I am pleased that you remember me."
"What happened to me? Please tell the truth." The petite stared at the arrogant
man with hypnotic, heterocromatic eyes pleading for a small modicum of respect
from anyone.
"To put it simply, Spears tried to kill you with an overdose of an experimental
drug."
"HypNox-0," the petite guessed. "That's the only dream altering drug that's
given to Rarities. All drugs given to Rarities are experimental because
Rarities are experiments." The female's eyes dimmed as she beheld the harsh
look in the other's chartreuse eyes. "I'm sorry, Martin. I-"
"It's ok. As I was saying, he tried to kill you, but the Ikiryo saved your
life. You will no longer be working with him. Instead, I'll be pairing you with
Sutcliff. It was Emily's recommendation and her report that swayed my
decision." The black haired reaper kissed the icy winter's forehead.
"Who are they?" she quizzed with a curious glow in her eyes.
"You don't remember?" The woman shook her head. "Well, Em did mention there
would be memory loss associated with the incident. I wonder if you still
remember Hesse?"
"Who is that?" the weapon questioned with a hint of disdain evident in her
voice.
"Oh, he'd be so heartbroken to find out that you'd forgotten about him, but no
matter." The ancient embraced the petite and found himself captivated by her
large, lupine eyes. "I'm only going to say this once. There are times when I
find myself thinking of you the way I think of Emily."
"Like a lover?" the experiment asked shyly.
"More than that. I don't know what it is you do to me, but I never want you to
stop. You and Emily...those eyes of yours...Your eyes, especially." The reaper
paused to gather his thoughts. "I had my own reasons for wanting Marcus dead
stemming all the way back to my apprenticeship under him, so you have nothing
to do with it. I don't care if you don't believe me. Emily doesn't. Just know
that I don't regard you as lowly as you believe."
"Then why treat me kindly for a while, then turn around and treat me badly
later on?" the petite persisted.
"Because you left me. Actually, to be more accurate, Hesse stole you from me. I
only said those things to and about you to piss him off. I've never liked him.
There's something off about a reaper like him. He has no fear of the Divine, of
Hell, of anything really, not even losing you. It only served to fuel his
bloodlust." The imposing reaper warmly smiled at the pacified Rarity. "Do you
want to know a secret?"
"Yes."
"Hesse is blind, you know, and he's the only one to win in a death match
against Legendary Death...Well, it's more of a draw, but they both consider it
a win." The reaper yawned and snuggled up against the petite. "Enough talk,
let's get some rest."
"You're not going to..." the winter weapon trailed off.
"The thought crossed my mind at first, but for some strange reason, I can't
bring myself to take advantage of you as I would have in the past. I would,
however, give you anything in my power if you'd let me hold you like this and
nothing more."
The Rarity shyly nodded her consent. "Thank you, Martin."
"Tonight will be our secret, Stella."
"Our secret, Martin."
"Please don't leave me again, Stella," the raven haired ancient sleepily
murmured as he nuzzled his face in the Rarity's hair. "If only circumstances
were different...wouldn't have to...be this...way..."
***** Mae *****
Chapter Notes
     January/Stella's innermost thoughts ~
     Undertaker's innermost thoughts *
     Mae/May's innermost thoughts ^
     Hi, thanks for reading. Sorry for updating so slowly. As you have
     probably surmised this year has been stressful for me. Adulting and
     health problems suck and interrupt my work. Enough with the pity
     party. Let's move on.
     This chapter is particularly unkind to the senses. Be prepared for
     rape, disembowelment, a bit of necrophilia, and medical torture.
     ***You have been warned.***
     Also contains hardcore yuri. Grell is addressed as "he or she"
     because my main OC doesn't remember her and can, therefore, be
     perceived as a disparaging remark regarding her gender identity.
     ***You have been warned...twice.***
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Realities blurred over the years, leaving the ultimate weapon questioning her
own existence and the events of her past. She had almost forgotten everything,
and what she did remember, she doubted. She accurately remembered very few
people, however, any events associated with them remained questionable at best.
Since the day she woke up from a coma her sanity was no longer her own. She
found herself drifting between different realities without realizing it. It
seemed since that day bits and pieces of her and her memories were purposefully
extracted from her for a reason known only to her tormentors.
~Who did this to me?~
A door opened, signalling the entrance of the perverted eugenicists and another
round of experimental torture. A wheezy chuckle accompanied the high pitched,
sadistic giggle of her current tormentor. The bound and gagged female was
dragged from her pitch black quarters to the metallic lab for yet another
spinal tap and much more.
~This makes the twenty-fourth time in as many days. Why?~
Frozen tears silently slid down the winter weapon's cheeks as the long needle
was inserted into her back. She cried out as long, thin needles were jammed
under her fingernails just for the sadistic pleasure of her tormentor. The dark
haired Empath jeered at her while he withdrew her spinal fluid for what he
perceived to be weakness on her part.
"Just shut up, you ugly bitch. You know this is routine," he sneered.
"Hey, 'Doc', I'm gonna play with the probes!" the blond enthusiastically
cheered. "Don't move a muscle or I might skewer one of those oversized
eyeballs," he whispered to the frightened petite.
"Why do you keep punishing me?" the prototype whined.
"Because it's fun," the blond pervert responded matter-of-factly as he inserted
the ocular probes into the inner corners of girl's eyes. "Now, hold still,
here's where our fun begins. 'Doc', will you do the honors?"
"I thought you'd never ask." The dark haired rogue connected a ground wire to
the apparatus powering both the needles in the prototype's fingers and the
probes in her eyes. A low humming followed by a buzzing alerted the occupants
that the torture was ready to begin. "Your turn, Glass, it's your toy."
The sadistic blond giggled madly and pressed a button hidden from view. His
blue eyes glowed with sick joy as he watched the experiment writhe in
excruciating pain while her eyes lit up, appearing almost transparent. "It
worked! Hell yes! It worked! I knew that extra heart of hers was in the way!
Just look how conductive that little bitch is. Let's make the voltage higher. I
wanna see how much 'Frosty' can take before her eyes explode!"
"Before or after her fingers burn off?" the black haired pervert asked, drawing
attention to the partially charred fingertips of the abused female.
"She'll be fine after a few minutes rest. We'll raise the voltage anyway. She's
my toy."
"This is turning out to be fun!"
"Glass, 'Doc', both of you in my office now!" a male voice suddenly thundered
from across the room.
~That voice sounds familiar, but I can't seem to remember who it belongs to
anymore.~
"Aw man, always interrupting our fun," the brunette grumbled.
"Sir, we have the last sample," the frustrated blond snapped with blazing blue
eyes. "What else do you want?"
"Get that shit out of her immediately!" the man with the deep voice barked.
"But, we were having fun," the blond rogue pouted as he began removing the
instruments of torture from the petite's body.
"I don't give a shit! Come with me, I have orders for you. I'm bored with my
'toy'. I'll let you two have at it for a while and then destroy it when you
tire of it. First, synthesize and inject the final clone with the spinal fluid
you collected today," the vaguely familiar, deep voice commanded.
"What about 'Frosty'?" the blond asked, glaring blue daggers at the weakened,
semi-conscious Rarity loosely restrained on the cold, metal examination table.
The owner of the authoritative voice gazed somewhat longingly at the weapon.
"It's not important right now, so leave it and let's go. I have a meeting to
attend. She's there. I'll be back in an hour."
"It takes two to process and properly inject the clone with the fluid," the
brunette wheezed out in protest. "Besides, I don't see why that albino whore is
involved in the project anyway."
"You'd better watch your mouth, you piece of shit. Emily is my business, not
yours. Say anything more about her, I'll tear your skin off!" the other male
threatened.
"You're only giving her special treatment because you love her, Gaines," the
brunette shot back.
"What of it?" he challenged.
The blond looked his superior straight on, blue eyes blazing. "I know about the
axiom of your people, Mr. Gaines. Don't end up like your skinny bitch of a boss
did with 'Frosty'; trapped in the anguish of a foolish unrequited love for a
beautiful woman. She's only a snare to you. Don't lose sight of our objective."
After uttering the ominous warning, the blond followed the two brunettes out of
the room. At least they had the courtesy to turn out the lights when they left
her alone and undignified on a cold, metal exam table. Darkness always helped
the reality confused Empath find her way into the light, but as time went on,
she was finding it more and more difficult to escape Limbo. Alone in the dark,
the lavender petite's memory began drifting to her lover.
~Mae.~
^Stella! They're coming!^
~Mae?~
Without another response from the green petite, the female brushed the blip in
her thought radar off as a false reading and continued to let her mind drift
between realities. To her, anything could be real or fake. Perhaps the memories
of spring's warmth were merely implanted as part of the experiments, or perhaps
she made them up herself in order to seek solace in her famished hell.
~Why do I remember what the one in the suit with the strange weapon did to me?
Oh, that's right...the scars so close to my hidden place.~
^Stella! They're coming for me! Please!^
~Mae?~
No response. She closed her eyes and drifted to a rare day of illusory freedom
on the dawn of her lover's forty-fifth year.
                                    xxxxxx
Winter tasted the sweetness of spring, indulging in the pleasured sounds she
made when her fingers explored her hidden place. Icy licks and rolls of the
tongue in varying degrees of pressure working in tandem with delicate fingers
unlocked the secrets of spring as she writhed in winter's gluttonous grasp. The
lavender winter popped her head up briefly with a sadistic, intimidating glow
in her mismatched eyes. "Taste," she ordered, shoving her right index and
middle fingers into the green petite's mouth. Satisfied with the slightly
younger weapon's capitulation, winter weaponry returned to the relentless
indulgence of her lover. Each time she flicked her tongue across that certain
bundle of nerves, teeth clamped down on the fingers she never removed from the
mouth of spring's wrath. Winter's secret places unlocked as her secret hunger
was awakened with the pleasured pain of teeth sinking into skin...right down to
the bone.
"Stella!" the green haired woman moaned. Delicate fingers knotted into lavender
tresses as winter unlocked her secret places. "Oh, Goddess, Stella, I love
you!"
Those six impassioned words were the winter of mass destruction's cue to let
the destructive spring storm taste herself in a passionate kiss. "You taste
sweet, don't you?" one petite asked the other.
"Just as sweet as you, my love," green replied to lavender, tucking a stray
tendril of lavender behind her lover's ear. "Why must our time together be so
seldom and so short?"
"I don't know, Mae. Let's just enjoy it while we can." The lavender petite
intertwined her slender legs with those of her lover's. The winter watched
spring's eyes rapidly roll beneath translucent lids, creating strange fairy
lights in tumbling meadows of long, green lashes. She softly smiled and laid
her head on the crook of the green haired woman's neck, delicately drawing
random patterns on her perfectly molded breasts. "I love you so much, Mae. I
never want to let you go."
The dozing petite raked delicate fingers through fine, lavender silk. "My time
is coming soon, Stella. I will be destroyed."
"Dammit, Mae, don't talk that way!"
"Do you remember Marcus' friend, the 'pretty one'?" the green lady sleepily
mused.
The older Rarity sat up with a blank look on her face. "'Pretty one'? I
remember Marcus. He was like our father, but I don't remember a 'pretty one'.
Why do you keep asking if I remember this person? It's always him and this
'shadow' person you ask about. Who are these people? Mae, you're going to get
the same response every time you ask, so just stop already," the lavender
haired woman snapped.
Spring sprung from her post coitus doze in wide eyed shock. "You really don't
remember him! My Goddess, Stella, how could you forget piercing eyes and long,
silver hair like his? And the other's face, how could you forget something that
beautiful? Despite their sins, they can be forgiven. Death is the One the
Goddess intends for you!"
"I don't know," the forgetful Rarity huffed. Tears pricked the corners of her
large, lupine eyes. "I only know that I love you, Mae."
Green and blue dimmed and brimmed with tears at the sight of winter in
distress. "I'm sorry, Stella, please don't cry. I know you love me and I love
you, but I also know neither of us are destined for each other no matter how
much we wish to be." The spring rain clung to her mate, stroking lavender locks
in slow, soothing motions. "I've prayed to the Goddess many times, but Her plan
is already preordained."
"How can I be destined for someone I don't even remember?"
"Our Mistress will guide you. Trust in Her, especially now." She laced her
fingers through her lover's. "I know I always ask this of you, but now I need
an answer. If you escape, promise me you'll find love again."
"Are you saying you wish to sever from me upon your death?"
"Yes, and I would do the same for you if our situations were reversed. In my
opinion, it's only fair that we should freely move on should we find someone
else to bond with in the future," the winter weapon's lover reasoned. "You're
the strongest. You can escape and find the love you're searching for; the One
the She intends for you." Green hands squeezed lavender's. "I will love you
forever and always, Stella. I sincerely wish our time together would have been
more pleasant."
"I love you more than words can describe. I wish I could remember the times we
had, but..." tears fell as she sadly trailed off.
"I know my love, Stella. I don't hold your torn memories against you. It wasn't
your fault. I'm just happy you remember me and our love for each other."
"I will do as you request and sever from you when that day comes, and in my own
way," the Arctic experiment decided. "I will hurt, but your logic is sound. I
cannot let my heart cloud my judgement."
The petites collided in an intimate kiss. "Thank you. I love you, Stella."
"As I love you, Mae." Another kiss was shared between the two women, this time
with more fire leading to another round of what would be the last time they
would ever make love again.
                                    xxxxxx
^Stella! They're coming for me soon! If you're alone, escape! Go now! Please
hurry! Go! Run away from this place! Find him! Find the 'pretty one'! He's here
in the 'aboveground'. I can sense him...Hurry, escape! Force him to steal you
away if you must! Find him and flee from this place! Take your chance and go!
Stella, go now!^
Her lover's panicked thoughts jolted the experiment from a bittersweet memory
within half an instant. Heterocromatic eyes flashed open, illuminating her
immediate surroundings.
~Mae? You're alive! I'll find you and free you!~
^No, free yourself! My hour has already struck! Flee this place! Do not delay!^
At her mate's desperate plea, the lavender petite tore herself free of the
restraints on the exam table. She thanked the Goddess that they were somewhat
loose that day, so all she came away with was scraped skin and a bloody hand
from struggling too much against rough leather. Without regard to her modesty,
the weapon shot herself out the door and down twisting corridors. Using her
senses as a guide, she sought out her distressed lover. Her mismatched eyes
blazed in righteous fury when she beheld the green haired woman tightly
strapped to one of those tables, nude, broken, and ready to be destroyed. "Mae?
Mae! I can still get you out!"
The compromised woman looked at her lover with resigned eyes. "No, Stella,
you're the strongest, you can escape. Go NOW!"
The lavender ice nodded, yielding to her mate's logic. As she began her trek
down the twisting corridors toward freedom she was snatched around the waist by
the blond eugenicist. "Let me go!" the experimental weapon shrieked.
"Look who decided to join us, 'Doc'," the blue eyed pervert snickered, dragging
the female back to the lab.
"Oh, my pretty wants to enjoy the show?" the black haired scientist crooned
with a wheezy chuckle.
"It seems she wants to watch her little girlfriend die. You go play with
'Greenie' and I'll take care of our little 'Frosty' one here." The blond
tightened his grip around the petite's waist, ensuring her inability to escape
was guaranteed.
The terrified female surveyed her surroundings, observing a red haired
individual with a chainsaw and a look of homicidal rage boiling just beneath
the surface of his or her catlike, toxic green eyes.
~That reaper seems oddly familiar.~
Her lover's agonized screams jolted her from her thoughts. "MAE!" The petite's
horrified shriek rang out, reverberating in the memories of all occupants in
the room as glowing blue and green bore witness to her mate's keeper brutally
slicing her open without the courtesy of anesthetizing her first. The winter
storm's rage grew, but she was still too horrified to break free from her
captor as the black haired Empath mounted her splayed open, dying lover.
"What the fuck are you doing to that girl!" the red head with the chainsaw
shouted. "You were just supposed to destroy-"
"Can it, Sutcliff! You do your job and we'll do ours!" the rapist yelled
without breaking his steady rhythm.
The petite noticed the mismatched glow framed by fat, green curls turn gray
during the heated exchange between reaper and newly ordained necrophiliac.
~I didn't get to tell her I loved her. She didn't get to tell me she loved me.~
The loud roar of a chainsaw brought the petite's attention back to the
disemboweled, desecrated woman she loved. Emerald and sapphire eyes went wide
as the red reaper plunged the machine into the green haired petite's open chest
cavity.
"These records have been tampered!" the reaper's semi feminine voice gasped in
shock as broken film reels flew out of the female's chest. Each gap in the
Cinematic Records conspicuously omitted the prototype and the redhead quickly
caught on. However, the reason why remained unknown to the chainsaw wielder
staring her down in curious suspicion.
"She kept her vow!" the experiment shouted in her native language. Her eyes
flashed and with a single thought, the two perverted Empaths flew across the
room, hit a wall, and landed on the floor in semi conscious heaps. "Hunt me
down and die," she threatened the redhead.
"I wasn't planning on it. You'd better run before they wake up."
Nodding, the reality confused woman frantically raced down the twisting
corridors until she reached a set of double doors.
~Where did these come from? Why can't I remember?~
She opened the doors from one reality to the next as she entered the catacombs,
blindly running until she emerged into a brightly lit hallway leading to an
enormous library. The shifting prototype skidded to a stop, clinging to the
first person she saw. "Please, take me with you. I swear I'll do anything you
ask, just don't punish me. Please, don't punish me!" the weeping, reality
confused Rarity begged.
Mad giggles floated down to the petite's auditory senses. "Now, why would I
punish a lovely creature such as yourself?" Long, slender fingers tipped by
black nails gently stroked lavender locks.
The petite looked up at the grinning madman with long, silver hair in funeral
garb. A strange top hat sat atop his head, pressing long, silver bangs over
half of his pale, perfectly angled face. Nevertheless, the Rarity still saw a
sad, sympathetic glow peeking through the veil of silver. Her eyes took on a
strange glow of innocent hunger as she continued to study his scarred visage.
~He's so beautiful...and somehow dangerous.~
*She seems familiar, somehow, but I can't seem to place it.*
"Please, take me with you. They killed Mae. I'm next. Please...I'll do
anything. Just don't punish me. Please!" The female lost between realities
turned around to inspect her surroundings, incidentally exposing her divine
tattoo the silver haired man's visual senses.
*What an interesting tattoo.*
The man in black stopped just short of running his nails down the tattooed
length of the petite's back. As she turned back to face him, tears flowed
freely from glowing eyes, hitting his soft spot for crying women. Cocking his
head to the side, one stunning eye revealed itself, stopping the Rarity's
remaining heart. "I'll take you with me, Lovely," he agreed.
"You won't punish me?" she begged for reassurance.
"I'll never punish you," the silver haired man swore. "No matter what."
The experiment's eyes went wide as the man in the flowing black robes summoned
a silver Death Scythe resembling a partial skeleton crowned in thorns with a
large, gently curving crescent blade jutting from the rear of the skull. "You-
you're a reaper?" the awestruck woman gasped.
"Indeed, I am. Hehehe!"
Familiar shouts neither of the fair haired beings wanted to hear sounded from
the direction of the catacombs. The silver reaper exchanged anxious glances
with winter.
*I need to go now, but I already agreed to take her with me.*
"Have I offended you?" the tearful weapon asked.
"No, you haven't offended me, Lovely. I'm not exactly welcome here," the silver
haired reaper hastily replied.
"You're rogue?" the prototype guessed, receiving a quick, confirming nod from
the reaper. "I want to be rogue, too. Take me with you!" she insisted.
Large, lupine eyes stained with decades of anguished tears tore at the silver
reaper's heartstrings. Sympathetic, phosphorescent green eyes locked onto sadly
glowing green and blue. Without regard to her personal space, the reaper gently
wiped away her tears, taking secret joy at the feeling of her long, lavender
lashes grazing his nail. "It breaks my heart to see you cry," he whispered so
softly no one could hear. As he opened a portal to a destination known only to
him, the familiar voices grew louder. Just as his fingertips brushed hers, she
was snatched away before he could get a firm grasp on the trembling, delicate
hand caked in dried blood.
*Next time we meet, I won't let go.*
                                    xxxxxx
~I will remember Mae. I will remember May. I will remember Mae this day in May.
My wrath will avenge my Mae for the blasphemies done unto her this day in May.
Mae, I will remember you, and I will avenge you.~
Chapter End Notes
     We all know Grell is a lovely lady. I am envious of how much better
     she looks in dresses than me. This is why 2D trumps 3D.
***** May *****
Chapter Notes
     January/Stella's innermost thoughts ~
     Hi, sorry for the delay in updating. Thanks for reading this
     wonderful twisted tale and giving me lovely kudos and such. It's much
     appreciated. Well, I'm on the home stretch. Only a few more chapters
     to go. Yay!
     In this chapter, a new male OC is briefly introduced who will play a
     larger role in my upcoming and final multi-chap of this series. This
     chapter also contains gore. Also, be prepared for some serious
     anguish. ***You have been warned.***
See the end of the chapter for more notes
The memory of that day in May stayed brutally etched in the experiment's mind,
forever scarring her volatile psyche. On the anniversary of spring's end, the
tattooed project made her first brazen attempt to escape the confines of the
lab. Her eyes flashed bright blue and green, and with a single wrathful thought
she threw the dark haired eugenicist across the room into an unused exam table.
Without hesitation, the petite sprinted from the underground lab complex into
the library. She paid no mind to the monotone voice barking orders to other
reapers to destroy her. Blue and green eyes strobed as several security agents
closed in on the her.
~May, the month that brought blasphemous atrocities unto my Mae.~
"Dammit, Spears, I ordered you to capture her, not kill her!" a deep, resonant
voice roared.
The experimental weapon's wrath was on the precipice of being unleashed as the
two managers were arguing over her fate.
~The month of May and the rain that it brings. How much easier it is to make
the blood wash away. Mae...~
The sound of splitting skin startled the security agents as they observed one
of their colleagues reaping himself with a euphoric grin on his face. The
remaining four reapers gaped at their dead coworker in absolute horror when he
fell to the ground in a pile of his own guts with that same euphoric grin still
engraved on his face.
"I will remember Mae on this day in May," the Rarity announced. "You will taste
my wrath and feel euphoria in its flames." Sparkling hypnotic jewels of
flickering emerald and azure flames trapped the horrified reapers where they
were. The experiment's heterocromatic eyes landed on one reaper in particular
whose vicious eyes had grown wide in sheer terror. "You, watch," she coldly
commanded.
"W-why me?" he stammered from his place on the floor.
The fair haired weapon knelt down behind the frightened reaper and wrapped her
arms around him. "Because you aren't like them. You're much older with hardly a
grip on your sanity. You have beautiful hair. I bet that it tickles your
shoulder blades when it's freed from that ridiculous low ponytail." The scared
security agent gasped as the petite curled a slim leg around his waist.
Delicate fingers released straight blond hair from its confines, leaving
scarlet highlights in their wake. An experimental voice whispered sadistic
seduction in the terrifyingly aroused reaper's ear as she wound her leg tighter
around his waist. "I sense that you want to fuck me. Watch what I'm going to do
to your friends and let's see how sick you really are, reaper. Let's see if you
still want to fuck me when I finish with them."
"Sh-shit lady, I don't want to hurt you," the blond stammered. His usually
vicious eyes remained fixed on nothing in particular as sublime ice ensnared
him in her hypnotic wrath.
The Rarity yanked the reaper's head back by his blood streaked blond hair. "Did
you just call me a lady?"
"That's what you are, aren't you? You're not a man, but even if you were it
doesn't matter to me. One thing is for certain, you're not an animal or an
'it'."
"You don't think I'm an object?"
"No. I mean, it's a reaper's nature to be possessive, but that doesn't mean
their mate is treated like a literal object or property." The blond sighed and
relaxed slightly within the petite's grasp. "Aw, don't cry anymore. Just kill
me and get it over with if it'll make you happy."
Wrath and joy burned in the experiment's mismatched eyes. "What's your name?"
"Adam White," he replied lowly. He shivered as the madwoman drew him closer. He
tentatively placed a hand over hers. "What is your name?"
"Stella," winter replied softly.
"That's a pretty name." The reaper turned around in the Rarity's grasp, vicious
eyes meeting wrathful gems. "I refuse to hurt an innocent person," he
whispered. "I don't care what you do to me, but I refuse to harm you."
The winter of mass destruction stared at her hostage with a completely
dumbfounded expression on her face as she tried to register the sincerity of
his words. "I may consider sparing you, but first, watch," she ordered,
pointing at the three reapers laying prostrate before her. With random,
furiously racing thoughts, the three remaining security agents appeared to be
hoisted into the air by an invisible puppet master from their positions on the
floor. Fearful, agonized shrieks unworthy of death gods burst out of the men's
mouths as their skin slowly peeled off of their bodies. "You dare call
yourselves gods! Spineless pieces of shit! You show fear in the faces of your
own deaths! How pitiful all of you are! None of you are worthy of your own
godhood! None of you deserve the backbone you were given!" the winter of mass
destruction screamed at the three reapers uselessly shrieking in agony, begging
for mercy. With a sadistic thought boiling in her destructive mind, the
wrathful weapon spun the security agents around, relishing the cries they made
as cool air rushed over exposed flesh and nerves. "Watch, Adam, this, I will
spare you," the biological weapon decided as she snuggled closer to the blond.
Together, the faux couple watched the weapon use passing thoughts to unzip the
floating trio's flesh and ever so slowly pull the spines out of each reaper one
vertebrae at a time until they finally fell silent and crashed to the ground in
twisted, bloody heaps. The giggling female peered into the surviving security
agent's eyes. "You truly are a perverted man, Adam. You don't just want to fuck
me anymore, you want to make love to me."
The vicious blond sighed and looked the sadistic woman straight in her
hypnotic, wrathful eyes. "You're goddamn right I do, Stella," he admitted. "If
you permitted it, I would do it right here and now despite our surroundings.
You scare the shit out of me, but you are still stunning." He cupped her face
in his hands and intently studied her face with vicious bright green and yellow
eyes as though he were trying to imprint her into his memory for safekeeping.
"You're horrifyingly beautiful, especially your eyes."
"You think I'm a beautiful woman?" The blond reaper nodded. "And that I
deserve..." the weapon trailed off.
"To live your life as you see fit?" he guessed. The frozen storm nodded.
"You're beyond beautiful, Stella. Aw, don't cry anymore. You're gonna make me
feel bad." The surviving security agent wiped away the Rarity's tears. "I
almost feel like I'm going to break you since you're so small and delicate, but
I should know better, shouldn't I?"
"Remember me, Adam," the biological weapon commanded. "Remember that I'm
sparing you this day in May because you acknowledged me." With those words
uttered, the Rarity kissed the security agent deeply and with unforgettable
passion. "Your eyes are vicious, Adam," she whispered, placing a kiss over each
eye. "Remember."
"I will always remember you, Stella," the blood streaked blond vowed. "What the
fuck!" he cried out as a sedative dart hit the girl's back.
The emotionless reaper glared at the much older security agent, silently
demanding the return of the experiment. In response, the security agent
possessively clutched her tighter against him. "You will release that...weapon
into my custody, White," the Dispatch manager finally bit out through grit
teeth.
"I don't report to you, so I won't be handing her over to the likes of you.
Moreover, I know all about what you like to do to her when no one's looking,
Spears," the other retorted.
"You will-"
"Enough, Spears, get out of here. I'll take care of matters from this point
on," a higher ranking manager interrupted.
"Sir, White's actions-"
"Spears, just get the fuck out of here. White doesn't report to either of us,
especially you, however, him and I have the same boss, so this is no longer
your concern. Go on ahead to the lab and I'll catch up to you momentarily."
The stoic reaper nodded his compliance and briskly marched off in the direction
of the catacombs.
"Gaines, I don't know what you're doing down there, but stop it. You've always
been an asshole, but you weren't like this. We used to be friends," the blond
security agent sadly admonished. "Furthermore, I won't hand her over if you
can't guarantee her safety."
"White, you know as well as I do that no one's safety is ever guaranteed," the
black haired reaper said lowly as he took the sleeping Rarity from his former
friend. "It seems that you fell for her too? What is it with us?"
The security agent bitterly laughed. "You know what they say about us when we
age. Gaines, don't let her near Spears. I already know everything."
"I'm sure you do. You're Hesse's eyes and ears, after all. You don't need to
worry too much. I promised her many years ago that I would try my hardest to
keep her and that dumbass separated even though she doesn't remember it or me
anymore," the high ranking reaper reassured.
"I get the feeling it's not working out too well."
"As I said, nothing is ever guaranteed, and I can't be anyone's babysitter. I
have my own responsibilities. You should know that better than anyone else."
                                    xxxxxx
"That was some sick shit, Spears!" the imposing reaper exclaimed. "The shit she
just pulled under her own power outdid the angel experiment by a long shot.
This woman is a natural born killer!" The reaper's long, black ponytail swayed
to and fro as he strode down the corridor with the tranquilized Rarity in his
arms.
The lower ranked manager appeared deep in thought as he considered his boss'
words as they made their journey to the petite's designated area. "I'm inclined
to agree with you, sir," he finally expressed. "The angel experiment, as grisly
as it was, does pale in comparison to what happened today. With that being
said, it relies too much on its emotions, therefore, I still don't understand
why it can't be destroyed. In my opinion, that thing is useless," the Dispatch
manager huffed as he adjusted his steel framed glasses.
The blond scientist turned his wicked blue blaze on the bespectacled reaper.
"Because she's my toy, Spears," he hissed. "I'm still conducting important
research."
The irate reaper glared at the lavender haired woman sleeping in his boss'
arms. "How will that abomination be punished, Mr. Gaines?"
"She won't be. She needs rest instead of punishment," the high ranking reaper
sneered. "I'll take her to her quarters myself." He looked down at the
experiment loosely clutching the lapels of his coat and held her tighter. "I
think she's had enough for one day. We'll begin again tomorrow."
                                    xxxxxx
They learned quickly since the fist attempt on the anniversary of that day in
May by developing stronger drugs. New, experimental drugs rendered her
powerless and sedate, which destroyed her sense of self and further eroded her
memory. That day in May, the day her burst of spring came to a brutal end, came
each year, and her wrath burned like hellfire. The drive to escape overwhelmed
the petite, but each attempt was thwarted by the sadistic Empaths and the
master of cruelty.
With each subsequent attempt to escape, she would get as far as the double
doors before she was caught by the clean cut manager and dragged kicking and
screaming back to the blond pervert. The stern reaper glared at her with
vengeful contempt as she silently begged for compassion with tearful,
mismatched eyes. Her brimming tears would only earn her a beating with that odd
Death Scythe of his instead of the compassion she so desperately craved. The
stone faced man roughly buckled her onto an exam table just to watch the blond
eugenicist pump her full of drugs the color of her hair and attempt to pick the
locks to her secret places. All the while, she could still sense the stoic
reaper's presence in the room and the secret pleasure he felt when she was in
pain.
                                    xxxxxx
The Fates seemed to have come to her aid on that day in May of the petite's
fifty third year. She laid unconscious with clear poison pumping into one arm
and pink into the other. Though the lavender winter was unconscious, she could
still vaguely sense the environment around her, however, she was still
uncertain as to which reality she was occupying.
The clacking of stiletto heels passed by the half open door, paused, then
doubled back. "Oh, my sweet, merciful Death!" the red reaper gasped as she
peeked in at the compromised Rarity. She hesitated as she contemplated going in
and freeing the girl. "I'm here as punishment, though, and I don't want to lose
my job, especially since I've improved," she muttered to herself.
"Quite true," a razor blade voice sounded from behind the redhead. "If you'll
excuse me, Miss Sutcliff."
The startled redhead stepped aside for the gray haired reaper. "S-sir, w-what
are you doing here?" she stammered in her best effort to remain respectful. "I
mean no disrespect," she quickly added.
"Enough with the formalities. Even if I don't like you, I like formalities even
less. As for my presence here, I intend to free her. I must put my conscience
to rest," the shadow replied lowly. "Would you like to end your sentence
early?"
"Of course."
"Watch for intruders and alert me if anyone comes near. Should anyone interrupt
me, I will end them. I don't care who they are. Second, do not speak to me. I
have nothing to say to you. Finally, do not, under any circumstances, speak of
this to anyone. Ever. If I find out that you said a single word about this I
will kill you with your own Death Scythe. To die in disgrace...Consider these
'conditions' warnings, Miss Sutcliff. As you are well aware, I do not make
threats. Do we have an agreement?"
"Yes," Red Death agreed.
"Good. I'll have the paperwork completed and delivered to the appropriate
parties presently. Until then," the high ranking reaper faced his subordinate
with broken wrath settled deep in his glaring, high contrast eyes. "Follow my
orders."
The pretty red reaper curtly nodded and assumed her post guarding the door as
the bittersweet shadow moved in the blink of an eye, shutting off poison flows
to delicate veins. From seemingly out of nowhere, he produced a black dress and
his glare softened as his fingers opened each button. The redhead glanced into
the room, a questioning look in her toxic green eyes as she observed the Gray
Shadow carefully maneuver the weapon's limp body into the long, black dress he
had given her the day he had taken her into his home. He reattached the IVs
that no longer pumped poison into her veins and feigned restraint of winter
weaponry to a metal exam table.
The shadow gazed down at the sleeping Rarity. His was the face of a broken man.
He squatted down next to the exam table and allowed himself to freely pour out
his pent up anguish and regret. "I'm so sorry for everything, my beautiful
love. I wish, more than anything...more than anything that I could go back in
time and give in to my feelings; the same feelings that have only grown
stronger day by day, year by year. I wish that it wouldn't have come down to
this...that I would've freed you then instead of now. What difference does a
few decades make in the span of my lifetime? To feel with you is worth
abandoning my principles. For what I've done...I'll gladly perish for you if
that is what you wish." The shadow caught a glimpse of a tear slipping out of
the corner of the petite's eye and he gave in to his compulsion to kiss it
away. "I still know when you cry even though you don't remember me anymore and
even though we are parted from each other. I will always treasure you and our
time we had together, especially the dawn of your twenty third year. I will
forever treasure that brief instant in time where my love for you was no longer
unrequited. I will forever treasure the night I drew your portrait...your
innocence. When you escape, I hope we meet again, so that I may rightfully
return what is yours in the way of your people whether or not you remember me."
The Gray Shadow wrapped his fingers around the Rarity's and thought more about
what he should say next since it had been many years since he'd last spoken to
her and just as many if not more regrets had also accumulated with those years.
"l'loved 'im, y'know," the unconscious girl inaudibly slurred. "Don'member 'is
name, but 'is eyes'r divine fire."
She said nothing else after that, so the shadow continued pouring his broken
heart out. "I hope that when you are free from this place, you will be able to
find the love you are searching for even though I am not that One. If you
remember me once more, and forgive me for what I've done, I'll be forever
grateful. If we ever meet again, and should you ever desire me, I won't steal
you from the One you are destined for. I know the ways of your people, Stella,
and I stake no claims. However, my heart, my body, and my soul are yours to do
with as you please. I love you even though it continues to remain unrequited."
The gray haired reaper's eyes slightly widened when he felt the experiment
lightly squeeze his fingers. "You were never an object to me, nor have you ever
been. You are none of the cruel things the others say about you, my beautiful
love. I have always known...even before we ever met." The gray reaper placed a
light, yet lingering kiss on the Rarity's slightly parted lips. A single tear
rolled down his cheek and lingered between their lips for a salty sweet moment
before the reaper decided to stand up to his full height. "I'm so sorry for
everything, my beautiful love," he said sadly. "If I had to do it all again,
I'd go rogue for you." With a gentle kiss to her forehead, the broken man
straightened up and reapplied his sadistic mask with great effort.
"You really do love her," the reaper in red quietly observed.
The high ranked reaper's fingers drifted down the curved spike in his left ear.
"I do," he replied softly. "You are free to go, Miss Sutcliff."
"Thank you. And also, thank you for addressing-"
"I only did it for her," the gray haired sadist snapped. "I suggest we make our
egress before we're detected, Miss Sutcliff. Remember my warnings about today
if you wish to preserve your life."
"I won't say a word," the redhead swore.
The gray haired senior manager stayed behind a bit longer after the redhead
made her hasty retreat from the underground hell known as a laboratory complex.
Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, the gray reaper cozied up to his
dear friend sadism in the cold darkness of wrath as he made an irregular
journey from one lab to another to ask a favor from a friend.
"Dammit, Hesse, you do this all the time!" the albino eugenicist shouted. "Stop
scaring me like that." The abnormally tall Empath loosened her bun as a
mournful sheen muted brilliant emeralds framed in white. "You've been crying
again, haven't you?" The albino's eyes dimmed as she beheld her old friend
struggling to keep his composure. "It's just us and the door is locked. You
know I won't judge you," she said softly with green eyes full of mournful
compassion and an outstretched hand offering solace. The Empath inwardly smiled
when the shadow readily accepted her offering of comfort. "Hesse, you have the
face of a broken man. Nevertheless, you're still beautiful. Even after you
betrayed her, she still thought you were beautiful, especially your eyes. She
was deeply hurt by your betrayal. She really loved and treasured you as her
friend. If you want my opinion, I think it should've been something more on her
part if it weren't for the darkness we're living in."
Slender arms clad in black brocade hesitantly embraced the white haired woman.
"I saw her today, Emily. I know she doesn't remember me anymore. I'm aware of
what happened to her seventeen years ago. Were you?"
"I knew."
"I came to assist in securing her freedom in the best way I know how. I cut off
the drug supply to the IVs and loosened her restraints. I returned the dress I
gave her the day I took her into my home as a memento," the gray reaper
informed. "I know that it seems arrogant of me, but I want her to remember me,
even if it's with disdain. I told her everything I've been feeling...Everything
I've kept inside for the last twenty eight years...All the regret I've felt for
betraying her, the love I still feel, and the instances in time that I'll
treasure the most when my love for her was finally returned." The Gray Shadow's
tone became serious with his next words. "Emily, I need you to do me a favor.
Outward appearances aren't as they should be since I've changed Stella's
clothes."
"That's not going to matter to that perverted keeper of hers. He's too
singularly obsessed with unlocking the secrets of her mind to care about what
she's wearing."
"That's good to know. What I'll need from you, then, is to keep Gaines away
from her. I don't know what he's planning, but I'm sure if she went missing,
he'd order her retrieval. We both know that he treats her like a possession.
Should an order come my way to retrieve her, I won't sign off on it. I may be
forced to sit on some committee or act as some accomplice, but my name will not
go on paper. I will issue no order of my own free will. Should I ever be put in
the position to where I have to act contrary to what I believe, then when I
have the ability or the power, I will have my revenge. I must clear my
conscience, Em. I would slaughter the Host of Heaven and the Divine Himself for
her if I have to."
The awestruck albino stared into her friends deep, dark green and burning
citrine eyes. "Good Goddess, Hesse, do you think she meant you?"
"I'm in no mood," the shadow snapped. "I want her out of here. I've lived with
enough regret. Knowing that she's here and suffering rubs salt in the wound for
both of us in different ways and for different reasons. One day...One day, I do
want us to meet again, and on that day..." he trailed off, forcing back a fresh
wave of sadness.
"It's ok, Hesse. You know Gaines can't refuse me. He'll send in that fraud to
cover my duties and everything else will work itself out. It's part of my
playing the whore to that bastard," the female replied bitterly.
"Emily, you are not a whore," the gray reaper sternly admonished. "You're
merely playing the hand you've been dealt. By the way, I've released Sutcliff
early from her sentence because of her assistance to me."
The tall Empath's eyes lit up with gratitude. "Hesse, you're a good man in
spite of your reputation. This and your compassion will be our secret."
The reaper's fingers drifted down the curved spike in his left ear, trying to
recapture the feeling of a certain woman's soft kiss. "Thank you, Emily," he
said softly, holding back a bevy of heartbroken tears.
"You're welcome, old friend. All will come to pass as the Goddess intends," the
albino predicted with cynical encouragement. "May freedom be granted this day
in May."
Chapter End Notes
     Yay! Grell is free from punishment! Party time!
***** Escape *****
Chapter Notes
     January/Stella's innermost thoughts ~
     Yurei/Ikiryo's thoughts/communication =
     Thanks for reading and putting up with my slow updates so far. Only a
     couple more chapters to go after this and I'll be finished with this
     part.
     This chapter borrows very heavily from the first "dream sequence" in
     chapter 5 of Unnecessary Shadows (part 1), therefore, it's probably a
     good idea for you to have read part 1 for context. Also, the first
     "dream sequence" in chapter 5 is about the day my OC escaped, hence,
     this chapter, etc. Hopefully, I have made this as clear as I can so
     as not to cause any confusion with the story line.
     This chapter contains mentions of torture/medical torture, sensory
     deprivation, objectification, incest, and necrophilia. It also
     contains scenes of rape, suicide via mind control, and
     disembowelment. ***You have been warned.***
     Enjoy.
~So many years ago before that day, I saw Mae every day. For a year, I spent my
mornings and nights with her, but I can't seem to rid myself of the feeling
that there was another presence with us. One was pleasant and benign. The other
was more ominous, yet seemed conflicted about its feelings toward me. Its
almost as if it harbored a secret that it shared with me that I'm supposed to
remember. I have somehow forgotten...perhaps there was no secret in the first
place. I remember all my secrets, and I remember Mae's secrets, too. All those
years ago...all those secrets, memories, events... Did they really exist
anyway?
I'm not even sure if anything is real anymore at this point. My memory is gone.
Every day is a new reality for me.
Punishment. That was real. I remember punishment. No matter what I did, I was
punished. I always bore the brunt of the cruel reaper's wrath and I don't know
why. His strange weapon hurt when it hit and burned when it cut. I was his
unnecessary object. He stole me from myself. He made my eyes dark. But I
allowed it to keep her-Mae-alive.
I remember the experiments. Yes, the experiments, the torture, and the drugs. I
remember all of those things. I remember vivisections without anesthesia. There
were too many occasions where I was suspended from the ceiling, ball and socket
joints dislocated from my shoulders, naked, cold, alone, and afraid. I was
always blindfolded and I never knew what kind of torture to expect and who my
tormentor would be for that day. Most of the time I was flogged with the
scorpion just to see how fast my torn flesh would heal on its own. Sometimes
they shot me with random projectiles to test my ability to dodge them or stop
them in mid air. I let them puncture my body because I was living in so much
fear and sadness that I couldn't concentrate on using my senses. Other days,
when those perverts were being lazy, I would be thrown into a tiny windowless,
soundproof room, alone in silence with only a prisoner's cinema to keep me
company. Time was irrelevant without light, sound, or someone to talk to, even
if that person was torturing me.
Poison rainbows in my veins rendered me powerless and insane. Hair thin needles
under my nails sent shocks of electric agony throughout my body. Probes in my
eyes searched for the essence of my lights. And then there were the rapes. That
is something I will never forget. The unnecessary, useless, brutal rapes are
something that have transcended all of my realities. A constant reminder that I
am, indeed, an object.
An unnecessary object. That is all I am to anyone according to the man in the
suit with the strange weapon. The one who scarred me. The one who made my eyes
dark. The one who broke me. The one who tried to murder me. And since that day,
reality has been altered over and over again, and I don't know why. All I know
is that I'm an object; a weapon unworthy of love and affection.
I am unnecessary.~
                                    xxxxxxx
=I am me. She is she. This is your real reality. I preserve the ugliness and
the beauty they made you forget. Fire guards the Shadow this day in May.
Vengeance is ours on this day in May. Freedom is ours on this day in May. We
are One on this day in May. She is she. I am me.=
                                    xxxxxx
The experiment's glowing eyes slowly blinked open upon hearing her keeper and
the stoic manager quarreling about secret clones and the project that spawned
them. Despite her faulty memory she knew they were talking about copies of her.
Twenty four dead eyed frauds still in the research and development phase of
something known as "Project 0". The wide eyed petite held back frightened tears
as the argument between reaper and eugenicist grew more heated.
Metal on metal clicked as the bespectacled reaper pushed his steel framed
glasses up the bridge of his nose. His cold voice threatened to expose his
discovery of the clones to upper management. The pervert's nonchalant eye
rolling stoked the flames of the reaper's hidden rage. The irritation displayed
in the twitch of the pruner wielding manager's eyebrow was the only outward
sign that the blond eugenicist hit a nerve with him. As usual, the lavender
haired woman received no compassion from the barely stoic reaper when he
glanced down at her. Loathing disgust was the expression she received instead
as he stormed out of the lab to make good on his threat.
Mismatched eyes dimmed. Just this once, why couldn't the Dispatch manager show
some hint of compassion, especially since he had discovered the real reason she
had been kept around so long after the cancellation of the eugenics program.
She didn't mention, let alone remember the man he claims to be so in love with
anymore.
~Why can't he just let it go? I've never wronged him.~
Fear gripped the female as the chuckling sadist's rough hand crept up her leg
and parted her thighs. She blocked out his sarcastic remarks regarding the
irate reaper's ignorance in reference to "Project 0" as he proceeded to molest
her. The winter weapon remained frozen against the eugenicist's unwanted
attention until his fingers were replaced with a different appendage.
"Frigid bitch, just like your name suggests!" the blazing blue eyed Empath
growled darkly in the experiment's ear. Still, despite the repeated heat
tearing her up inside, she refused to let the ice within her body thaw. In his
anger at her refusal to yield, the male's fist got acquainted with her face,
and that's when his neck got acquainted with her hand. He probably should have
made sure she was still properly drugged first now that he realized his sick
gratification was out of reach.
Eyes as black as pitch concentrated on the Glass object that needed to be
destroyed. He was thrown through the air and landed in the corner of the room
as the petite sat up on the exam table. Expressionless features and a
motionless body housed a terrifying weapon that was about to backfire on him.
~That was the last time, Glass! I remember now...You tried to fuck your sister
once, didn't you?~
"N-no!" the perverted eugenicist vehemently denied. "You keep out of my head!
You little bitch! I'll have you destroyed too!"
~But she told on you.~
"Shut up, I say!"
~And your father beat you with a belt until your disgusting ass bled. To this
day, the skin is still puckered with scars from the beating.~
"Stop this, please," the blue eyed scientist pleaded with tears threatening to
spill from the memory.
~Yet you still couldn't stop your atrocities, ARNOLD GLASS! You just had to go
and vivisect the Rarities, didn't you?~ The soft, airy voice echoed
sarcastically within the eugenicist's subconscious. ~And what you couldn't do
with a living woman-~
The experiment's eyes became twin black pits on her pale face as she continued
to sit motionless and expressionless with tubes and IVs still stuck in her arms
on the cold, metal exam table. From deeper within the sadistic blond's
subconscious her soft, airy voice became much darker, and more malignant, thus
giving her current image an even greater element of horror. She had reached the
uncanny valley.
~-you did with the dying, vivisected Rarities just to get your own amusement
from watching their insides twitch and move with each thrust. Did it satisfy
you to watch blue and green fade to gray when you fucked them to death?~
Remorseful lamentations burst forth from the blond's putrid mouth as he
realized escape from the weapon he helped create was now impossible. Regret
poured down his cheeks while his hands worked on their own to remove his lab
coat and shirt. There was no stopping the prototype's wrath. His destruction by
his own hand at her command was inevitable. The voice, darker than the darkest
parts of Hell deep in his subconscious served as infallible proof that his end
was here.
~Remember May. Remember how you forced me to watch my love, Mae, be destroyed
in the month of her code name. Remember Mae. Remember her and remember me as
you destroy yourself like she was destroyed. At least you will be spared the
humiliation she suffered at the hands of shit like you and your sick little
friends. Remember Mae. Remember May.~
"I didn't destroy her!" the blue eyed freak argued as he dragged a scalpel over
his flesh. "'Doc' did."
~Voyeurs are just as cruel. Remember Mae. Remember me. Remember us in May.~
"F-fuck you!" the self eviscerated pervert shrieked as he collapsed to the
ground in a pile of his own guts.
~Take a moment to examine how your own filthy insides work and remember who it
was you tore apart that day. I will never forgive you for making me watch my
love be stolen from me. She was mine and you swine took her. Be happy your end
wasn't as humiliating.~
The bitterly self satisfied voice vacated the perverted scientist's
subconscious as he feebly protested the petite's accusations. His whispered
croaks lasted but a few moments as blue faded to gray-the Empath's universal
death knell. At the moment of passing the sadistic eugenicist knew he would
forever burn in the Goddess' Divine Wrath for the wanton slaughter of Rarities.
The experiment's customary blue and green glow returned as she came to her
senses. Pain and blood beneath her long, black dress and swelling around her
left eye alerted her to the brutal fact that she had been subjected to yet
another round of punishment. Noticing that no one was around, she frantically
freed herself from the various tubes and IVs stuck in her arms. As she rolled
down her sleeves and began the arduous task of buttoning the tiny, velvet
covered buttons, an eviscerated corpse in the corner of the room caught her
eye. Her mismatched eyes widened in terror and she clamped her hands over her
mouth to stifle a scream and hold back a surge of vomit. On this day in May,
the prototype's instincts finally kicked in and she took advantage of the
opportunity presented to her and bolted out the door.
The lavender haired woman acted on pure instinct as she made her escape from
the laboratory complex. She ran down corridors, through a rocky catacomb until
she reached an enormous room full of books. Her large, lupine eyes darted back
and forth, desperately searching for an escape route until they fell upon a
bright light that was quickly vanishing. The urge to vomit had passed, so
running fast would be no problem for the petite. With both hands still holding
the terror in her mouth, she took a gamble and dove into the light, barely
missing the edge of a massive blade. As soon as the light faded, the winter
weapon hit the ground running and didn't look back, nor did she care that
neither presence in the bright light seemed to sense the other. Once the
terrified petite found a private place, she finally released the pent up terror
from her mouth in the form of a blood curdling scream. Should anyone pass by,
she didn't care. She also didn't care when she began crying tears of joy in
loud, body shaking sobs.
"I'm free," the lavender winter joyfully sobbed. "On this day in May, I am
finally free."
***** Restored *****
Chapter Notes
     January/Stella's innermost thoughts ~
     Undertaker's innermost thoughts *
     William T. Spears' innermost thoughts #
     Hi, thanks for reading my twisted, dark tale of twisty darkness. I
     really appreciate it. I'm almost done. One more chapter to go after
     this one. Yay! I want to upload it ASAP so I can continue my rough
     draft on my last multi chap. Also, the sooner I upload, the sooner I
     can take my sabbatical. After such a stressful year, I need one.
     So, hopefully, everyone has read part 1 for context, since this is
     basically where we left off. *Full circle.* Plus, it's required
     anyway. *context*
     This chapter is much kinder to the senses with reaper drama, rape
     threats, and a bittersweet end. *You have been warned.*
     Enjoy.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Many expressions came and went on the legend's face. Everything ranging from
happiness to despair. The most frightening expression, however, was jealous
rage fueled by insanity. That expression was a frequent visitor on the madman's
face, especially during the younger years of the Rarity's life. The unnecessary
jealousy eased as time went on, allowing other expressions to visit in its
place. Yet, still the madness in his eyes remained in spite of the range of
emotions he felt as he examined the Rarity's Cinematic Records. Perplexity was
a new expression when "Missing Scenes" showed up on the petite's film reels. It
seemed that an entire two years from the time she escaped from the torture
chamber of the eugenics program to the day she hid between two coffins with
fearful tears falling from glowing eyes had been purposefully erased.
*Erased by what? How? Is it her own doing? Did something so traumatic happen to
her that she blocked it out? Or did she do something she considered so shameful
she decided it best to permanently erase the memory? Is it somehow actually
tampered with or corrupted? I doubt even she would have ever known...*
The mortician had seen both tampered and corrupted records before, but not both
at the same time. The difference between the two was usually the method of
manipulation, although that wasn't always the case. This was the first time in
all of his existence as a reaper that he had seen both tampered and corrupted
records existing within one person, and it was vexing.
*Could this be why there are 'Missing Scenes' in her records? I know angels can
manipulate past memories, but there are absolutely no signs of that sort of
tampering. Aside from what I've seen in her records, I wonder what else it
could be?*
As the final year of the Conduit's life played before the legend's piercing
eyes, a sad smile graced his scarred visage. He didn't bother holding back the
mournful tears that trickled down his pale face as each treasured moment passed
by. At his own risk, he knelt down and swept his taloned fingers over the
Rarity's eyes. As he rose to his feet and peered down at her, he couldn't help
but admire her beauty-even as a corpse.
*Like an eternally Sleeping Beauty.*
On this, the final day of the lavender haired woman's life, the mad legend's
soft, sad smile morphed into a tense jaw, hiding angry, clenched teeth. His
mournful gaze once again became acidic, jealous fury beneath shaggy silver. As
the final few hours of her life wound down, the jealousy festered when he
watched his old friend briefly reunite with the unconscious Rarity. Though he
did nothing inappropriate with her, the affectionate way in which he spoke to
her was enough to drive him into a homicidal rage. It was simply a reaper's
nature to be possessive, and Legendary Death was the most possessive of all. To
see his long time friend and former apprentice so intimate with his mate at any
point in time, especially on this day, made his blood boil. It wasn't just
because she was his, but because he-the Gray Shadow-was unusual. The shadow was
the polar opposite of the legend. He had no possessive nature, nor did he have
a concept, let alone a grasp on the emotion of jealousy, however, his intense
passion more than compensated for it. So much so, that the legend respected and
envied him for it. He had no choice but to admit to himself that the shadow was
still as captivating now as he was in his youth.
*I don't know how many times he's given me such a blank stare when I've tried
explaining to him what it means to be jealous, followed by the countless times
he's laughed at the 'human' emotion. Now that he's felt, he still doesn't know
what jealousy is. He was human once...Is it any wonder why she was drawn to
him? He gave her what I couldn't because I wasn't there. I wonder if I'm a
substitute for him or if he was a substitute for me?*
The silver reaper put aside his inappropriate jealousy regarding his lover and
the shadow and concluded the examination. He quirked a curious, silver brow at
the petite's suspended film reels. "How peculiar, no End Credits," he mused to
himself. "Ah, but my Lovely has always been a peculiar one and that's what I
love about her." The annoying noise of metal on metal clicking reminded the
madman that his former student was still in the room impatiently adjusting his
glasses with his Death Scythe.
"Sir," the Dispatch manager began.
"Spears!" the legendary reaper's dark growl brutally cut off the younger
reaper. He removed his Death Scythe from his lover's chest and whirled about to
face the inconvenient manager. The mortician's electric green hatred glared at
the short haired man as a menacing grin spread over his lips. "I should kill
you where you stand, but that would be too merciful." Phosphorescent eyes
flashed with pure madness and murderous intent as he approached the other man.
He readied his weapon as he cackled maniacally and without mirth. "Shall I do
to you what you did to her, hm, Willikins? Oh, wait, you want me to fuck you.
In fact, you don't care how I fuck you as long as I'm the one fucking you.
Isn't that right?" The silver haired man casually brushed his bangs off his
face and glared at the battered reaper with fully exposed, alluring green eyes.
"Is this what you've been yearning for, Spears? Have you been longing for a
damn good look at this?" The mortician gave the flustered manager a quick once
over. "It seems you're stiffer than I thought. Say, why don't you try doing
what you did to my Lovely to me? How does that sound? Fantasy come true?" The
silver haired man dug a nail into the gnarled cut on the humiliated manger's
face. He chuckled darkly as he watched the younger man turn beet red from the
unexpected contact. "My, my, have we a closet masochist here? I've done what
you did with her to countless others of both genders, except they were willing.
But, with you, I'd make your punishment worse by a thousand fold. Ah, but I'd
rather not sully my cock with your flesh. Still, nothing to say for yourself,
hm, Chilly Willy?" the mad mortician mockingly drawled.
The irate reaper's leather glove made the irritating creaking noise that had
been haunting him since the day he first laid eyes on the Rarity as he tightly
gripped his Death Scythe. His embarrassment from being taunted by the man he
was so desperately in love with had him torn between reaping him and raping him
right then and there.
#His eyes are truly beautiful. Even with all the scars, he's beautiful. I wish
he was mine, but that goddamn abomination...that whore stole him from me. Why
does that abomination deserve him? I was there when that thing whored itself
out to all the fossils. It's clear that it can't be faithful, and, therefore,
it is not trustworthy. That abominable creature is not worthy or deserving of
him.#
The tyrannical manager dropped formalities as he addressed his idol. "Crevan,"
he began in an icy calm voice. "That carcass you call a mate took everything
from me. It took every ounce of compassion I might have had. It took my peace
of mind. It took away any chance of happiness I could have had. Worst of all,
it took you." The pruner wielder balled up his fists, leather gloves creaking,
jaw clenching. "It wasn't hero worship, Crevan. I loved you. I still love you.
No matter what I do, I can't stop loving you. And, spare me your 'get over it,
boy, don't be so pathetic' diatribe. I've known you long enough to know that
your only soft spot is for distressed women." The jealous manager glared at his
former superior and allowed his stoic mask to fall away. "Is your precious mate
aware of your reputation? Ha! In the short time I was your student, I've seen
you pick up women and treat them as you treat her; possessively, with
affection, and your jealousy knows no bounds when they look at another man. Oh,
but when you get bored of them you toss them aside like garbage. At least you
have the courtesy to be more direct with men, even though you remain just as
possessive. So, tell me the truth now that it's just the two of us alive and
speaking amongst ourselves, what's so great about this useless creature
compared to all the other men and women across the realms? What's so different,
and so much better about this thing that you not only spurned me, but were
driven to kill your own people just to watch it die?" The hatred in full bloom
of the irate man's heart burst at the end of his questioning.
Legendary Death set his scythe on the ground with a metallic clang. He ran a
finger over the leading edge of the legendary crescent blade as a wicked grin
spread over his lips. "You're a persistent little bugger, aren't you? To be
honest, she's interesting. She doesn't bore me either in bed or out. There's no
one like her in all the realms. There never has been and there never will be.
She is my treasure. Aside from that, women of our race are too much like you,
even the last ancient. I can't say the same for the men. Humans don't last
long, though they can be entertaining at times, and I'm not really fond of
angels or demons...or any other Empaths aside from her, now that I think about
it. I've been around for a long, long time, and experienced a hell of a lot
more than you can imagine. You figure it out, Spears."
Static silence filled the air. No retort given, no rebuttal made. Only the low
ranked manager's progressively widening eyes gave away any sort of reaction
that the mortician may or may not have caused. "What the hell?" the bloodied
manager gasped.
"What are you on about, boy?" the silver haired madman growled.
The bespectacled reaper pointed at the Conduit's corpse. "The
records...they're...I've never seen anything like it..." Under the elder's
suspicious glare, he banished his strange Death Scythe and held his hands up in
surrender.
Legendary Death turned toward the silvery blur floating overhead. Indeed, the
young tyrant wasn't bluffing. Former teacher and student watched below as the
Conduit's Cinematic Records neatly arranged themselves over her body. Section
by section, the film selectively edited itself as it made its gradual
serpentine journey back into its host body. All eyes watched as the "Director's
Cut" of the petite's Cinematic Records-a film without end-efficiently resealed
themselves within their organic projector, leaving no evidence of a scythe
wound behind.
*The Ikiryo...I remember now...But, that doesn't explain what just happened
with her records.*
"Sir?" the manager addressed the legend formally in his customary monotone
voice.
"Go, Spears. If you want to live, I suggest you leave," the silver haired
reaper warned with menacing fire flashing over his electric green glare. "Now!"
                                    xxxxxx
The silver haired man banished his scythe as soon as the Dispatch manager
exited the library. He removed his formfitting tunic and wrapped it around the
petite's limp body with loving care. Maybe it was loneliness driving him mad,
but he could have sworn he saw a tiny hint of color glowing beneath translucent
lids.
*I must be delirious. I saw those lovely lights go out.*
The silver reaper scooped the exotic treasure into his arms, paying no mind to
the scarlet stains his white button down shirt was sure to acquire. He
struggled to force a smile as he delicately caressed the dead girl's cheek.
"Come, Lovely, let's get you cleaned up," he whispered in a voice strained with
sadness and violence. He wished more than anything to hear her girlish giggle
again. They both knew why those seven little words made her feel giddy every
time he uttered them.
*It's her obsession with my compulsion to touch her silky, lavender hair.*
"I love you with all that I am and more," the madman whispered. With a tender
kiss to not quite blue lips, the reaper held the Rarity faster as he summoned
his legendary Death Scythe. Within seconds, the fair haired couple disappeared
from the carnage into the light.
                                    xxxxxx
The mortician returned to his humble little shop with a treasured guest in his
arms. He sighed knowing he still had others in need of his attention, but his
treasure took priority over them. After washing away the ugliest parts of the
day, the mortician set to work on his special guest.
*I can't be an unsightly mess while I make my Lovely beautiful again.*
The silver haired man hummed obscure songs he knew his lost love liked as he
washed her body and dressed her in airy, black gossamer similar to what he saw
in the story of her life. He had nothing by way of an ornate headdress, but he
was talented with arranging lavender locks into elaborate works of art. He
hummed a macabre, upbeat tune as he wove random pretty things into strands of
lavender. He paused briefly when he noticed there was more skin than ink
visible on her back than there once was. He suddenly realized he was forgetting
something important regarding the tattoo. He brushed the image and its
associated feeling off on his poor eyesight and his desperate attempt to hold
onto the tiny sliver of sanity he had left. He shrugged and continued his work,
yet his memory still nagged at him regarding the petite's fading tattoo.
*The Prophecy she spoke of...I wonder if it's actually true?*
The reaper turned mortician gently laid the lifeless Rarity on a table. She
never wore cosmetics, but for his next task they were necessary. He hummed a
slow, haunting hymn familiar to her people as he carefully stitched the self
inflicted gash in her neck closed. He could attest to the Divine Himself that
he heard her giggle ever so softly when the tips of his bangs brushed her face.
*I am delirious.*
Nevertheless, he continued with his task of mixing pigments at a separate table
as he continued humming the haunting hymn. All doubts aside, he was determined
to make her look alive.
*If only I could find a way to bring her back.*
A perfect match for his Perfect Beauty to conceal the death she dealt herself
was almost achieved.
~We will never sever.~
The words. The soft, airy voice corkscrewing into his subconscious. The meaning
of One.
*It's her! It's my Lovely!*
The silver haired mortician returned to the source of the voice in his head.
His acidic eyes scanned her petite form with great curiosity from behind a veil
of silver.
~Will we never sever?~
The tiny pot of pigments fell from the mortician's hand. Its muted crash went
ignored as the reaper's piercing eyes went wide in absolute wonder. The silver
reaper brushed back his bangs and watched as the Conduit's large, lupine eyes
blinked open; inner eyelid trailing outer, revealing omnidirectional emerald
and sapphire embedded in obsidian nightmares.
The Divine Eyes of the Conduit landed on Legendary Death as she rose from her
position on the table. The speechless reaper didn't dare go near her as he had
become prey in her predatory gaze. "I am She, and she is Me," the self
resurrected woman stated with bold conviction. "I am the Conduit."
Chapter End Notes
     How cool would that be if irises were split within the eye? It'd look
     creepy, but so awesome! *Imagination!*
     Isn't it cute how my OC interchangeably refers to herself in the 1st
     and 2nd person. Screw that "royal we" crap. My OC is a goddess!
     I'm in a damn fine mood. Who wants cookies?
***** Prophecy *****
Chapter Notes
     Hesse's innermost thoughts /
     Thanks for sticking around and reading my super twisted tale of
     darkness! Yay, it's the last chapter! *applause*
     Anyway, this little epilogue is primarily OC-centric. Depending on
     your perspective, it does contain tiny spoilers to the final multi
     chap. Have sympathy for the man in emotional despair.
     Enjoy.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
The insane jealousy in the legend's eyes was clearly visible to the gray haired
reaper while the Rarity's records played in slow motion on unnecessarily silver
film reels. He knew that the jealousy was directed at him for his unrequited
love for the lavender winter. Still, possessiveness and jealousy were alien to
the shadow, yet, the look in Legendary Death's acidic eyes was almost enough to
intimidate him. Almost, but definitely not quite. The gray haired reaper still
couldn't help but wonder if his long time friend truly loved the woman or was
he so captivated by her that he let his extreme possessive nature get the
better of him. After all, he was getting jealous over a time in her life when
he wasn't even present. On top of that, the legendary reaper knew she had
forgotten him after the attempt was made on her life all those years ago.
/I wish she wouldn't have forgotten about me, but maybe it was for the best.../
The gray reaper sighed and continued watching the conclusion of events unfold.
As soon as the mortician and the deceased petite made their egress from the
library, the Gray Shadow took the opportunity to survey the extent of the
damage. His high contrast eyes landed on subjects of interest. With swiftness
enviable by Legendary Death himself, the shadow confiscated the katana of his
acid eaten subordinate in addition to all materials held in possession by the
fallen Empaths. As he is everywhere and nowhere at once, the unusual reaper
escaped to the relative safety of his office without anyone the wiser of his
presence.
"Damn," he muttered as he sifted through the documents on his desk. A thin,
gray brow rose in curiosity at a misfit envelope with his name hastily scrawled
on the back. A sense of dread coupled with sorrow welled up inside him as he
slowly opened the envelope. There was no name on the letter, but he knew it was
addressed to him. The ancient language was a dead giveaway that it was from the
Prophet.
/What are you trying to tell me, Em? If this is your way of getting back at me
for startling you all the time over the years, then you're more sadistic than I
am...Oh, this page...it's...ah, I know what this is...the Prophecy./
The reaper shrugged off the thought and read the document after careful
consideration.
On that day, a fair haired child was born to die to live again for all time. A
child who is free to bond, sever, and bond again as many times as she pleases.
Death is the one who is destined for her. As her hour strikes, and at the
appointed time, she will die for Death and be reborn as the Conduit.
For she is She and She is Me. She is the Conduit; that which is reborn cannot
be possessed. The Conduit is a vessel for the Ineffable; the Flameless Fire
that can never be extinguished; the Goddess made flesh. She is She of Divine
Wrath who will avenge with a cleansing fire. She is She whose Wrath runs deep
and whose Love runs deeper.
She is She who begets and does not bear. She is She who transcends. She is She
who will serve no one. She is She who will restore order above and below. She
is vengeance, wrath, passion, and fire. She is Me and she is She. She is the
Conduit. The End is the Beginning of all things.
/I know how deep her wrath runs...For what I've done, I hope she takes it out
on me./
The shadow continued on to the actual letter, written in the Empath's common
language. His hands trembled while he repeatedly read the words waging war with
his shattered heart. His slender fingers drifted down the curved spike in his
left ear as they often did when he thought of her. Suicidal tears jumped to
their untimely deaths, slightly smearing the ink on the letter. It was the last
two words that struck him the hardest:
"It's you."
Chapter End Notes
     I'll be taking the rest of the year off and possibly January as well
     to focus on my rough draft for the final multi chap of the series.
     I'll also be taking my much needed sabbatical as soon as I pay my
     monthly expenses. Adulting sucks. Oh well. The final multi chap is
     going to be a lot different than what you've read so far. *evil grin*
     Because I'm such a tease, I'll leave you with this: I'm bringing
     Othello into the mix. Othello fans rejoice!
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