Nameless
Part 1
Nameless
By: Nitemare Angel
12/5/05
Time placement: Suburban Senshi, Early 2006
Summary: The figments of our imagination can expand so far.
September tenth, Nineteen Eighty Nine
A little girl can go through a looking glass, and find everything she’s ever dreamed of. That’s what the book said, at least. But everything would be backwards, and Jedda Rain didn’t want that. So, like any good girl would, Jedda avoided looking glasses. She didn’t want to be lost in a backwards paradise.
And so, on Jedda’s ninth birthday, the girl was given-ironically-a looking glass. The beautiful glass seemed to stare her down, as she gazed at it. Never did Jedda want such a haunting gift, and yet here it was, staring her down, wanting her to beckon it’s mystery.
The mirror stared at her angelic form for moments, seconds, hours, until finally she placed a gloved hand against the cold glass. There was something odd about this looking glass, for it gave no reflection, but only showed a shroud of darkness. Very slowly, the girl noticed the shroud vanished as her hand pressed against the chilling reflection.
She could see deep within the world. Pitch black, a room that seemed small at the time, but as she felt her petite body sink through the cold glass. Despite resistance, her body felt like lead as it sunk. More and more through the glass, like quicksand to a victim. Jedda couldn’t scream, nor cry, nor much of anything. All she could do, was fall. Fall and fall, and yet it wasn’t falling at all. Instead, she seemed to just float to the ground, landing on her side as if she were a feather.
She rose to her feet, dusting off her silver nightgown, and looked around. She remained as silent as possible. It was a silent, black dimension. Looking up, she could see the mirror-the door out-was too high for her to even think of climbing out. Besides, the walls were smooth, and she would not be able to get out. Staring up, Jedda’s eyes looked like glass. She did not move her feet from that spot, and finally, she raised her voice to a small whisper.
“Hello?”
The voice seemed to ricochet, as if a small whisper could give a tremendous echo. There was no response at first, or so she thought. Until some sort of snake-like being seemed to surround her, a largely cloaked figure seemed to coil. Rising up, the figure’s height reached the mirror-door.
“Oh a child has called , a child with a heart of volcanic glass,” The being seemed to speak, “A child, a human girl, of a lowly class.”
Jedda raised her eyebrows, “What?” She noticed the echo had gone, as the being uncoiled itself, looking at her.
“I seem to not be scaring you, child,” The being commented, “Is the fear I expel too mild?”
“You’re not very scary.”
“But don’t I look like the boogey man of your fears?” It asked with haste, but Jedda shook her head.
“I don’t believe in the boogey man. I don’t believe in anything magical.” She seemed to say solemnly, and the being backed away, looking at her.
“And why not, surely there is some magic that you believe in, that must be clear!”
Jedda shook her head, “Nope. None.”
The figure formed a hood, and seemed to have it’s features be shadowed, yet Jedda could still depict the bewildered look on the face.
“But…surely…Even in a land of magic such as this,” the figure made hand motions, “Surely you would believe in a dimension of this bliss!”
Jedda looked around, noticing the vast…nothingness of the world, “But it’s not happy…”
The being seemed to rise, “Well sorry if I mustn’t confer with what you say.” It seemed to float around the little one, “For millenia on in, I’ve existed here day by day.”
Jedda’s gaze moved up to the being, still in bewilderment. How could anyone be so tall? She noticed that there were also no sleeves for the arms. In fact, it was just an odd looking purple cloak that allowed the face of the thing to be shrouded, yet the outline was depicted. From the small gap though, it seemed to only have a little stitching, some sort of black thread, and that was it. The rest was just raw unsown cloak. She could not spot a single stitch on the cloth. Perhaps there was somewhere in the back?
“So where am I?”
“Midear, do you not know?” The being once again floated down, so that it was in a sense coiled around her, “This is a land where nothing is due to flow.”
“That doesn’t help me,” Jedda stated, crossing her arms, and pouting. The being laughed darkly.
“It helps you lots, you just refuse to accept it,” The being’s shrouded face neared her until it was inches from her face, causing her to lean back, “You refuse to accept reality, from imagination, thus you fall in a boring pit.”
“Who are you?” She finally asked, looking up with big green eyes, “What do you wish to do with me?”
“What to do with you, a lonely unimaginative child?” The being chuckled, “I wish nothing to do with a human so…mild.
“As for your question, which you ask with a voice that has a confused ring,” It turned, floating away, “I am an old one.”
“Cthulthu?”
“No, I am nothing.”
The girl backed away, “But if you are nothing, then how can you be in front of me?”
“I am a being with no memory, nor past. I am so old that it was stripped of me with time. I have even forgotten my name from living in this place, so vast.” The being seemed to stop, to consider this.
“Everything has a name, what shall I call you then?”
The being seemed to pause then gave ye another rhyming answer, “You are a girl who thinks asking questions is shameless. I shall ask of you to call me nameless.”
The girl gave a slow nod, as if she understood, and then looked at the creature, tilting her head, “So, Mr. Nameless, how do I get out of here?”
Nameless seemed to smile, turning toward her, “I can carry you out with ease, but you must make me one promise, if you please.” He floated to rise to the mirror, then lowered to her.
“Anything,” She whispered, knowing that she wanted to get out of here.
The being smiled, then backed away, “It won’t have to be this year or soon, but I wish one day to see again the moon. In order to do this and be again untamed, I must once again learn my name. Then I shall serve you one true wish, not just something so simple as this.”
The girl nodded, “Just as long as you let me out.”
The being nodded, moving toward her so that the cloak seemed to flow right toward her, “Grab onto my coat, and I shall guide you past the moat.”
The girl nodded, slowly allowing her small hands wrapping around the long flowing cloak, as it tugged upwards. She held on tightly, as what felt like a storm was surrounding her. Jedda could not help but scream, shutting her eyes tightly, and what felt like forever in an instant.
And yet, there she was. Sliding out of the mirror, and landing on the floor. She looked around suddenly confused. Was that all a dream? She slowly rose to her feet, dusting off her dress, the silver dress seemed if only a little dirty. Looking around, she was convinced that it had to be a dream. But there was only one way to find out. She slowly rose to her feet looking at the mirror.
And there was her reflection, staring right back at her.
Jedda let out a sigh of relief, turning away, as to move to bed. She paused, turning just to be sure that it was a dream. And then she saw it.
A misty fog had covered the inside reflection of the mirror, with what appeared to be something traced into the mirror.
Remember the promise…
And now, sixteen years have passed…
November 27th, 2005
Time: Midnight.
The omen floated above Sydney, slowly sinking as it seemed to find it’s proper home, there was a landing that was perhaps something between graceful and exhausted. The being seemed to slowly approach the house, sinking into the window cracks, and then finally made its’ way into the bedroom. It floated toward the mirror, and then managed to enter with ease.
The essence took shape, a nine year old girl, wearing a bright green blood stained dress. Again the girl fell, and she seemed to fall now with no grace, nothing like a feather. No, she fell like lead, almost feeling herself shatter. Instead, she just didn’t move for awhile, taking deep breaths.
She felt the familiar cloaked being rise, and seem to look at her.
“Hello again, my dearest friend. It seems that despite my gifts for you, it is here that for you the gods will always send.”
She looked up, finally rising to her knees, “That made no fucking sense.”
Nameless backed away, “Naughty, naughty! How you lose is by showing an attitude that haughty!” The being floated around, “You need to change your tactic. I gave you my dimension, the maze, the tarot, and it ended as so anticlimactic.”
Jedda glared at Nameless, “Then how am I to get out of here now?”
“You need a body, little one. I can only supply you so much, now, without the price given for my fun.”
Jedda knew what he spoke of, The name. Nameless demanded her to find his name. Then he would be free from this dimension.
“Right,” She sighed, “I ask you of this then, a body, and a lead.”
“You ask for too much. A body I can supply, you know.” He pointed to Jedda’s mortal body, the twenty four year old woman’s body left laying on a bed, “I can give you something temporary for your journey, with one simple touch.
“Your other request, however…” Nameless looked at her, grinning maliciously, “I can only say follow your heart that can be so clever.
“Follow your soul,” He looked to her as the cloak grazed her cheek, “And you shall find your proper role.”
“Ask for the king of nothing, young one. Ask for a man bound to emptiness until time is done.”
Finally the body began to materialize around Jedda, her bones began to form like a gelatin, until it hardened. Then the small cells formed tissues, muscles. Tissues formed organs, and organs formed systems. A thin layer of flesh covered her body, hair growing out of her head, and fell to her waist. Silks began to form to cover her naked body, until she was in the green dress. There was no blood on the dress, but it didn’t matter. She had a body again. Jedda Rain was whole.
She looked to Nameless, nodded, and then took off down the dimension. She would find what she needed, what was missing. She would find his name. No matter who she had to kill, or anything.
The Devil Child was back, and she would get her revenge. In the most bitterly possible ways.
Part 2
Nameless: Part two
By: Nitemare_Angel
Time Placement: Suburban Senshi (Late 2005)
All mentions of things not belonging to the author’s imagination belong to those who created them.
June 23rd, Two thousand Four
One could still ponder why the hell a girl with her entire life ahead of her, at the age of twenty three, would be in an alley, alone with only some sort of bagged item, in the beginnings of winter. Yet there she was, fully escaped from the bloodstained home where her parents corpses laid mauled in every shape and form. She could imagine it clearly. The bodies dissected from the collar to the groin, the opened flesh pinned to the hips, as the intestines slowly pouring out of the bodies from the sides. The hearts were missing, the lungs were cut intricately so that every bronchiole was removed. The limbs were cut off sloppily, the legs and arms strewn across the floor, while the head seemed to just sit on the opened torso, staring at her with lifeless eyes. The eyelids were cut out so that the eyes would indeed remain open. Pins were placed in the cheeks to make sure that they were smiling when the police found the bodies. It was all so disgusting, and yet all so amazing to view.
And she had committed this maniacal crime. Once she learned the truth of reason to collect the spirits of those she hated, she emitted the wrath of her body, and ended the lives of the two people who nurtured her to this fucked up hell hole. They were to blame.
She could feel the chilling weather seem to brush against her legs, and she realized that she needed to do something before they chased her. Slowly, she rose to her feet, her hands hiding in the pockets of her jacket. She watched the people pass the alley, unnoticing of her. She wanted to find just the right person. Someone who wasn’t too strong to not seem like the one to commit a crime like this, yet not too weak. She could not risk it.
Slowly, she saw it. Someone who was tall, wearing a dark jacket. His hat was down, and he seemed to be in haste. She rose to her feet, moving carefully. With a swift movement, she threw a single card at him. The two of pentacles. The man stopped, and she smirked, closing her eyes. Her memories transferred to him, and slowly, he turned. Mad with rage. She smirked. Just as expected, and then slowly, ever so slowly, backed away.
But things didn’t always work out for Jedda as she’d hope. Perhaps they never worked out as she hoped. Nonetheless, the man had turned onto her.
“DIE BITCH!” He screamed, and she felt something, a switchblade go into her body. With a scream, she fell backwards, into the cloaked item, and she could feel the cloak disappear, along with her body, into the abyss.
Slowly, she opened her eyes, finding herself floating, and her body seemed to be falling, yet she was floating.
“No…”
“Oh yes,” Nameless floated around the lifeless body, the cloaked figure surrounding it like a snake, “You’re just a spirit without a body. Surely you must be blessed!”
“This…can’t be.” She stared down at the body, as it seemed to look down at the young one.
“Oh, but it is. At least that’s what your heartbeat almost says…”
“No, no, no.” She seemed to begin to scream, “NO! This can’t be!”
“Oh, but you’re wrong,” Nameless laughed, continuing to swarm around the body, “Perhaps now I shall sing a funeral song.” And he began to try to sing, or perhaps it was a screech.
“NO!” She ran toward him, “Please, keep my body alive, I need it! I need it to end the lives of those who killed sister!”
Nameless stared at her, floating on his back, “I am the giver, and I shall grant your wish. But you must find my name. The more in debt you are to me, the sooner you shall find that I shall limit my healing of your pain.”
“Anything,” She got on her knees, “Please. All I need you to do is preserve this body, and allow me this dimension…”
“Really, now?” He looked at her, “Perhaps for this, I’ll help you plow, but if I see you failing to seek my name, you shall find your entire spirit at the point of meeting defame.”
“Yes of course,” She nodded, slowly bowing, watching her body. The pale complexion…the blood pouring from the wound. She needed to stop this. Slowly, she gazed at the dimension around her, and looked at her tarot deck.
Surely there was something that she could do with this. Something Jedda could do to save herself and get her revenge. She had to annihilate those twins. If it was the last thing she did.
And so, she spread the cards around her, and called forth the many spirits of the Aster clan, forcing them to possess the different cards of the major Arcana. Two at a time so that there were ten cards. Then there only left two. She held her hand out, and the star crossed lovers became the rod of her necessity.
Now, all she needed to do, was find those to be her minions.
December 9th, 2005.
The window had been left open, Jedda knew that, as she threw her mirror out, and allowed herself to reenter the portal that held her there. Slowly, Jedda found herself floating, if only for a little while, until things began to shift. The mirror glowed if only a little, and the little one found herself outside of the dimension. Instead, she seemed to be floating, drifting through a swamp. She didn’t scream; she was used to the pain, but rather she began to wonder where she was. Questions lingered in her mind, but she would not dare ask them, for her memory slowly came to her. Memories of the tales which she had read and heard.
This was hell itself; Jedda’s final resting place until time were to end. She closed her eyes, not breathing, not screaming, but allowing the beings to take her wherever they were intending. From what she could feel, they were going downstream. Beneath her back, she felt the bubbles rising and cringed. The chanting she could not hear but she was now aware, as she felt their mouths almost touch her body. Slowly, she moved, gradually swimming to the edge of the bank, and climbed out of the River Styx. She brushed herself off, the light green dress now dark from the water and from the excretions. She began to walk, taking her time to be careful. She had no guide like Dante did, so she would have to rely on what little magic she could use in this form. Her cross was hidden beneath her cloak, and she knew that could only do so much. God had abandoned her long ago, and the girl was fully aware. Her tarot deck was hidden next to the cross, and she nodded to herself, beginning to move along the river.
She reached the proper, and gazed outward. She could see the movements beneath the water, the indication that there was fighting, and she looked up. Phegyas she knew would deny her access, so she reached for her deck, flipping through the cards. Slowly she drew chariot, and murmured a chant, until the card glowed. Slowly she backed away, and then took the swiftest dash she could, feeling her body glide as it rose. She landed with a splat, just at the edge of the River Styx, and could feel the hot water burn her ankles. She stepped out, noting the burns. She had to be careful.
She gazed upwards at Dis, and began to knock. Nothing happened. Demons peered down at her, and scowled.
“Go away, child of life. This is not your place. We shall tear you apart if we must,” The demons cried, but she said nothing, seeing the rip in the gate. Slowly, she walked toward it, but then she stopped. Three furies had appeared, and seemed to be calling something.
“Do not speak to me,” Jedda finally spoke, “Like this. Do not treat me like a child, for I am capable of summoning demons to devour your souls, and I will wear your skins like that of a king.”
“She liiieesssss,” A fury called, and yet the demons seemed to not move. She began to walk, keeping aware. The fury swooped down, and yet within seconds, the being was impaled by a sword. Jedda had drawn the Queen of swords at the right moment. All the demons stopped, and allowed her to pass. Jedda moved, still holding the fury which was attached to her sword.
“Clever girl,” It hissed, and Jedda continued to drive the blade along the flesh, ripping the flesh off gradually. She ripped off the wings, and took the flesh, throwing it over her shoulder. The fury laid there, only in muscle and bleeding. The being twitched, then seemed to die, and she walked, looking at the flesh, letting herself just ponder.
She moved toward a few tombs, kicking off the top and gazed in. There, someone seemed to rise.
“What is it you seek?” A heretic, his flesh burning seemed to ask, and she stared. He had been in a burning pit, his spirit was going to engage in this until eternity ended.
“I seek,” She said softly, “The King of Nothing.”
“Go away,” the man scowled, “You won’t find him here.”
He shut the tomb, and she was left alone. Sighing, the girl continued to walk. She soon found a large building made entirely of marble. Slowly, she walked toward it. Then quickly. She could hear the music, a soothing noise that seemed to make her relax, and yet she merely continued to walk, her feet bare as she felt the marble graze against the soles.
She saw the tombstones, and the people banging against them, and walked toward one.
“Excuse me,” she asked, and the man looked up at the girl, his body black and blue from banging into the slab, and she spoke softly so that he may not panic, “I seek the King of Nothing.”
“Nothing…there is none such a thing,” He whispered, “Not in this hell. Turn back young one of life, turn back before they find you and kill you.”
Slowly, she realized that the answer would be the same, as she continued to ask. And indeed, everyone conferred in the mausoleum, leaving her with no doubt that this was not where she would find it. And she knew, that she had trespassed with improper right.
Turning, she began to escape, running out of the mausoleum, out of the field, ignoring the burning coffins. She gradually found herself reaching the gate, where the demons all gathered, in their glory, looking at the girl. Even the fury, the one she had killed, stood there, flesh gradually growing upon the body.
“You have killed one of ourssssss,” The demons hissed, the furies seemed to approach, “We sssshall take you to where you belong.”
Jedda backed away, now in fear, her hand moving toward her deck, but the demons all seemed to move toward her, and she screamed as they began to try and tear the girl’s body apart. She lowered, trying to defend herself, and yet she knew she couldn’t.
That was, until she felt her hand cross the crucifix. Her eyes widened, and she drew the holy weapon, holding it above her head. The demons backed away, and seemed to laugh.
“You think that will defend you?” The demons laughed, “You are sssssssso wrong, child.”
Then they advanced, slowly at first, like a tiger to it’s prey. She turned, and dashed toward the mausoleum, running through the rooms, past the slabs of stone, past the tombs which held those in misery, out the back. The little girl ignored the stench. She finally drew the chariot card, and jumped right toward the edge of the River Phlegyas. Her eyes stared down the bloody river. She stared at the blood that boiled, as she continued to jump, keeping by the river as it flowed downstream. Jedda decided to throw them off by entering the wood of suicides, finding herself suddenly entangled in a tree, hoping they were gone.
The little one remained dead still for only a few moments, until she realized it. She was not alone. Slowly, ever so slowly, Jedda’s gaze shifted upwards.
And there she saw it. The blue coated, black shirted man. He had his legs crossed, and was staring down at Jedda with burning blue eyes. His white hair was short and spiked upwards. He seemed to stare at her for awhile, then smirked, jumping down, and a sword was held at her neck. The girl was deathly still, she could feel the jugular move against the cold blade.
“Now that I have your attention, what would a little human girl like yourself be doing in hell?” His voice was cold, and there was a malicious smirk on his face. She felt her hand shaking, the one holding her deck. The bright green eyes were filled with a greatest fear.
“Scared?” He smirked moving closer, and closer, the blade not moving, for if it did it would cut her throat open, “They’re always scared. They hear the stories of this place, and they always fear coming here. In dreams, and in death.
“But what little human would have the balls to come here?” Virgil asked, now grabbing her chin, staring at those green eyes, “Or are you even a human at all?”
Jedda had suddenly stopped shaking, her hand moving beneath her cloak. Virgil’s eyes had moved to her hands.
“How old are you, kid?” His voice was low, and his face drew closer to hers, “Did you just happen to find a book on magic, or is your heart so black that you could just wish yourself here?”
Jedda’s hand tightened around her deck, determining which card to draw. She had a choice among her cards. Swords, Wands, Cups, Pentacles. She slowly chose the card, then with swift action, she took the crucifix out.
The glistening cross seemed to stare at Virgil as he laughed. Nothng caused him to repel, and that was when she realized it.
“My god…” She whispered, “You’re not a full-”
“Don’t,” He slapped her hard, and she almost lost her balance, “you dare say it.”
Jedda found herself silent, still recoiling from the blow. Slowly, her hand finally drew a card, and she held it in front of him. There was a glow, and the blade seemed to take it’s form, impaling him in the abdomen. Jedda’s eyes went wide, as he seemed to not even make a noise, but just stare at her, then at the blade.
The first thing Jedda noticed, of course, was that this was not the usual Ace of Swords. There was one thing that stood out; the skulls on the handle. Oh no, this was far from any blade Jedda had held before. She felt her hands shaking as the blood drew on the blade.
“Where, child,” he hissed his hands reaching for the blade as to try and pull it out, “Did you get that blade? Where did you get Force Edge.”
As if it were an impulse, she drew the blade from him, and admired as the blood spurted, there his body seemed to heal. She almost forgot about the blade in her hands until she felt his hands on the blade.
“Give me it,” He growled, his eyes glowing. Jedda looked at him, and the realization hit her. This man wanted the blade for some reason, obviously. She could use this clearly to her advantage. A small smirk crossed her features.
“If you want it, you have to understand…” She pulled the blade from his hands, “You’ll be in debt to me.”
“Swine! You stole that from Dante!” He growled, and she only laughed, finally rising to her feet, managing to find new balance.
“Stolen or not, it’s mine now!” She laughed, jumping back, to find that the Chariot was still in effect, yet now she was merely falling like a feather. He got up, moving toward the edge of the branch.
“What do you want?” He asked, about to actually run forward and stab her with his sword.
“Your heart and soul have to be pledged to me,” She held up one of her cards, “Admit me to be your mistress, and I will grant you your blade.”
He seemed to stare at her, as if in contemplation, “Fine, give me the blade, Mistress.”
She smirked, holding a card. The Nine of Pentacles. She muttered a small chant, and the card glowed, then suddenly attached itself to the demon’s chest. There was a scream, and she was aware of it. The searing pain in his chest, as his heart was infused with the magic of the card. A moment later, the card was drawn from his chest, and flew back to her hand.
“Your soul belongs to me. I will call for you when the time comes. Until then…” She turned, “Be aware that if you even think of trying to go against the contract, I can merely rip the card in half, and your soul will be destroyed.”
She then seemed to jump away, and before the half-demon could even try to follow her, she had vanished before she even reached the top of her trajectory.
There was a pause, and he stared at his hands, “Clever little bitch.”
Part 3
Nameless: Part three
By: Nitemare_Angel
12/12/05
Time Placement: Suburban Senshi (Late 2005)
All mentions of things not belonging to the author’s imagination belong to those who created them.
December 12th, Two thousand Five
Jedda found herself again, floating in the abyss of a darkness, the shards of the mirror floating around her, as she felt her body merely float amongst the glass. Time passed, hours, days maybe, she could never figure it out. It were like nothing in those moments. And yet, she could feel the eternity surround her. Every heartbeat of Hell seemed to pound in her ears, and the girl slid into a near eternal sleep.
That was, until she found herself laying on the harsh sands, the wind causing her to feel the sting of a storm surrounding her. Her first breath caused sand to fill her nostrils, and she sneezed. She took a breath from her mouth and sand filled her mouth, and she coughed. She reached for something, finding her cloak, and wrapped it around her as one would a veil. The green dress was tattered, but she didn’t care. She could always get it fixed at a later date.
Very gradually, she entered the town. Within seconds, however, she stepped upon an engraving, something deeply pressed into the ground, seeming to be carved by perhaps a rock.
Slowly, she ignored these strange engravings, and made her move through the town. She had to find something, something to help her through this strange place.
Jedda had made her tactics clear, as she walked up to people, unaware she was emitting the scent of blood and excrement as she passed. Many tried to avoid her, and those who she did approach seemed to be too disgusted to give an answer. It wasn’t until she finally reached a bar that she discarded the cloak, and was given an orange juice by a kind, elder man, though his nose seemed to be twisted in an odd pose, as if he had caught a whiff of something disgusting.
“Miss, if I may ask…” He seemed to finally say, “You appear to have taken a long journey, perhaps you should find somewhere to bathe and change your clothing…”
Jedda looked up, “Where could I find such a thing?”
The man scratched the side of his face, “Lior isn’t large, miss, but we have a small bath house. As for your clothes, I am sure that the Holy mother would be generous to take you in.”
Jedda seemed to look to the side, fiddling with her straw, as she began to sip on the liquid, “Sir, perhaps you could be of some assistance. I seek the King of Nothing.”
“King of what? Little girl, you’re not gonna find that here. Rather, we’ve only recently experienced great suffering. The reform stages are currently in effect.”
Looking up, she gazed at him, “You mean to say that by your suffering, you would not know the King of Nothing?”
“We only know of the sun god. However, perhaps who you seek is of another’s faith.”
She sighed; it was futile to try. Slowly, she backed away, looking up toward the sky.
“How can one find the name of a nameless if they don’t know where to start…”
Her gaze shifted, however, and she noticed two people sitting atop a sign. Both were clad in black, and as she observed, they seemed to be speaking to each other. One of the two was enormously plump, with not a single hair on his head, his arms bare and something odd seemed to ring in her mind about him. The other, was a voluptuous woman, dressed in a black dress, her hair tumbled like a waterfall down her body. They were looking at something, something that intrigued young Jedda. There she saw it. A group of cloaked figures all walking. And realization dawned.
There was an aura amongst them, mostly of a holiness, but that was a façade. Rather, only one released true holy power, the rest were merely a gray color. Except for one, whom was pure black. As they passed, the dark aura surrounded Jedda, and she backed away.
Never in her life had she sensed an aura. And this was the first that had practically smacked her in the face. Was it perhaps the out of body experiences and now in something so foreign…No, that could not be the case. It had to be a hallucination. Quietly, she gave the sign of the cross, and moved away.
Time passed, and Jedda had indeed managed to change her clothing, now into a tan dress and another cloak. She had thrown her green dress out into the sand, hoping no one ever found it again.
From there, she began to walk. This place was pointless, yet she could sense it. The time of peril was close at hand and these people would soon meet a fate worse than what happened before. As she turned to an alley, she was met with a large amount of steam, and the two she saw earlier had their skin suddenly burn off. Yet, as the foggy mist seemed to clear away, their bodies regenerated, and she fled. Now she knew that those two were not human. She now wanted to run. Not because of the beings, for she had faced worse in hell, but because she feared that the peril would reach her before she could leave. It was something she did not want.
She turned through alleys, making her path, and yet she found herself only continuing to run, unsure of how to leave. That was, until she found them again. The two figures. This time the woman was collapsed, and the large one was tending to her, but perhaps in a way that was more a stalker’s obsession with the body, than anything else.
Bile rose in her stomach, there was something disgusting about this, and yet she stepped forward, and the obese figure looked up.
“Are you here to hurt my Lust?” He asked, holding the figure close to him, and she held up her hands, smiling. So this was the being’s toy. His property perhaps.
“No, rather I have come to help you,” she said, approaching, “I know ways to bring her out of her pain.”
He seemed to look at her carefully, angered, “You promise?”
“I promise,” She smiled, bowing, “You have my word.”
“If you lie, can I eat you?” He seemed to ask, saliva forming at the corners of his mouth. The look in Jedda’s eyes crossed with fear and perhaps the amusement. However, with things she had never dealt with and worlds she had never seen, she would not call his bluff.
“Yes, you may eat me,” She said, then walked toward the woman, leaning down, “However you must hide for now. I cannot do this in the presence of others.”
As if Gluttony were a puppet, he seemed to nod, and climb up the wall, taking his leave at the roof. The little one had to act fast. She drew her deck, the ace of cups appearing. Slowly, she hovered the card over the tattoo upon the chest. The symbol she could recognize. Ouroboros. Slowly, she meditated, allowing the realizations to draw together, as if to enter the cup.
“You…you seek who you truly are. Your serving the old one as a puppet bores you, it tires you to the point where you wish to no longer be a part of it. Your only true lure to this however, is the man with the X-shaped scar. For perhaps five years, you and your loyal puppet have followed the orders of the Old one. Now, though, is the time. Now is the time for you to open your eyes, and allow the truth to sink in. Rise, Homunculi. You are the true lover of the Destroyer.”
Lavender eyes opened, and she rose to her feet, looking at the child, her fingers pointed at her throat.
“Why do you summon me?” Lust asked, the tone as it usually was. Jedda smirked.
“You, Homunculi, Mistress of the Dark Sin Lust, you wish to become the opposition of your taboo. It is clear, I would not need the Ace of cups to see this.”
The woman’s hand faltered, “And what does it matter to you?”
“Mistress, if I may please,” She backed away, expecting no threat, until the nails extended, and Jedda stopped. Well, that most certainly was NOT expected, “I can grant your desire, Mistress. All you have to do…is serve me.”
“Why would I wish for that?” Lust’s nails finally touched the flesh, “Clearly you know too much and I should wipe you from this universe.”
Jedda laughed, “You wish to kill me? I am far too difficult to end, Mistress. Thousands before you have tried, and most end up either dead or serving me.”
The nails were still pressed against her neck, and Jedda’s pulse could be felt against the cold nail. Was this woman about to call her bluff?
“What is it you wish of me to do?”
Jedda smirked, “When the time comes, you shall be called. In return, you shall become human. Not immediately, of course, it is a slow change, and you will have to seek the assistance of a golden eyed boy. Only then will you become human.”
As if it all made sense, the woman seemed to draw back her nails, looking at her, “I do not trust you.”
“Trust is not a factor in this, Mistress.” Jedda smirked, drawing the card; The Queen of Pentacles, “It is rather…a contract.”
Part 4
Nameless
By: Nitemare Angel
1/3/05
Time Placement: Suburban Senshi (Early 2006)
It has been said, that an author, an artist, is the master of lies. A human who can sit there, and put words to paper, and take the fantasies of their world, and the realities of ours, and merge them. Make them into a literary creation that is their own. They can say they've been to Paris, to France, to England, to anywhere they wish. At the same time, they could be in a place that is beyond all reality, and rather, within the imagination. They could be in their own little Never-Land. They could have the ground above them and the sky below them, or they could be merely floating.
Their imagination has no ends, and no beginnings, it could be as serene as they wish, or as gruesome. There could be a snow fairy awaiting to guide him through the world he has created, or there could be a lizard god awaiting her to be a human sacrifice to her own nightmare.
We can defy death, we can ignore or submit to our desires (no matter how inhumane), we can change our destinies, and we can allow our delirium to be considered it's opposite. But we cannot defy our dreams. For that is where the imagination branches. That is where our art comes from. Our writings, our themes, and our messages: they all come from dreams.
And that is where we cannot deny who we are. Our dreams define our being. Our pleasure is depicted through our dreams. Our fear is revealed through our nightmares. And we are whoever we are, when our eyes are closed, and our hearts beat slowly, our dreams expose what is beneath the flesh. And then our eyes open, and the dream is finished.
Nameless reveled in his imagination, his dreams, his desires, and his delirium. He had defied death, but in return, his destiny had ended, and he was entrapped in darkness. On a rare occasion, he'd have a companion, a little child with bright eyes, and a spirit as black as the night. But otherwise, he was alone. And that was how things were for him. How else could they be?
Nonetheless, his mind closed, and he tried to remember. Who was he? Where did he once exist? Why had he been condemned to no destiny? He couldn't even dream. And yet the visions were faint, but there. Five faint figures all gathered around him, his eyes still painted in charcoal, and his mind seemingly fleeting, trying to escape, but to no avail. There were voices muttering to him, and he fell to his knees. He knew his fate, now. To have no destiny, and to live in an empty dream. By defying the angels that called for his soul, he had defied death, and surrendered to delirium and desire, but the sensations were so strong that he had been foolish enough to call upon the legendary.
Slowly, his body sank, and sank and sank, until there was nothing left. They took his memories, his history, his thoughts, and his name. They sealed his body somewhere that few would know. And he was alone. Alone, for ten thousand years, living in solitude, wondering what the real world could be like, and being forever lonely.
Until she came to him. She was not old, perhaps the age a child would gradually leave the bindings of her mother's grasp. And yet it seemed to be that her mother had abandoned
her years ago. Everyone did, it seemed. There was no denying the sadness that surrounded this child. Her sister had died in childbirth, her mother and father died in a boat accident a few years later, and once the girl had been sent off to Australia to live with those whom adopted her, she had never seen the British coast since. Little Jedda, poor little Jedda Rain, a soul most lost.
Slowly, he allowed himself to rotate around what seemed like a confined portal, and he just watched the girl make her journey, beneath the hood, there was the vaguest of smirks on that face. What he was hoping for was unknown. It could be a thousand things, all we can assume, or never know.
Trowa Barton had always been a man to hold his liquor. He knew Wufei was similar, though the man most likely was not drinking tonight. Rather, it was more amusing to watch who would get piss drunk first; Duo, Heero, or Quatre.
Of the three, Trowa knew that Duo would be most likely to drink until there was vomit on the floor. Even then he'd keep drinking until he passed out in that vomit. Heero would probably not drink until he dropped, still, he would drink enough to get some sort of buzz. Quatre…the beautiful angel was never one to drink, and he never seemed like one to hold his liquor. He'd be one to order a single glass of wine, and that would last him-even so, he imagined even that would make him tipsy in the slightest. Probably three or so glasses and he'd have a decent buzz going, depending on the liquor.
However, tonight, Duo had bought twenty-one shots of vodka. Moronic action, yes, but Trowa could care less at the moment. The four had to save Duo from preserving his liver. Five shots each, as the four resolved, and Duo would get six. Just to allow the boy to get his buzz, and brag that he had the most.
And so, the waitress, short in height, almost appearing to be like a child, waddled over to the group, and served the liquor to the five, the pentacle assortment seemed to stare at the five, as the woman walked away, and the four began to go at it. Wufei ordered nothing, and Trowa waited. Duo took one shot after another, as if it were nothing. Heero took one, letting it sit, as if to feel the burning feeling travel down his throat. Quatre was uncertain, but slowly, ever so slowly, his shaky fingers wrapped around the clear glass. Through the brunette bangs, Trowa's emerald gaze was right on the blonde angel. The blue eyes met the green, and it was as if a streak of confidence had gripped Quatre. The boy put a firm grasp on the glass, and held it up to his lips, taking a slow sip.
The enigmatic hint of a smile crossed Trowa, and his hand finally slipped around the first glass, and he began to drink, not taking a slow sip, but not downing the liquid as if it were water. He had to go through five of these, and that would be all.
The waitress passed by a few times, seeming to give a few passing glances at the table of five. Duo had taken notice, and just as he finished his third shot, he raised a hand, "Hey lady! A bottle of gin when you're finished."
The woman looked up, "An entire bottle?" She seemed to have a worrisome look within those green eyes, and yet it seemed perhaps like a façade, for there was a smirk on her lips, "If you insist."
She then vanished, behind the bar, not being seen for a good few minutes.
"Honestly, baka, what the hell do you think you're doing?" Wufei shot the braided one a gaze, "After that you should be fine."
"Fuck you." Duo had shot the man the finger, and Heero just seemed to not be paying attention, still focused on his second shot of vodka. Quatre had barely finished his first, and Trowa was on his second.
"Man, Cats, that is NOT how you drink." Duo pointed, "This isn't sake or something like that, this is Vodka. You're aiming for the buzz, here."
Quatre looked up, "I don't think I…"
"Leave him be, Duo," Trowa said, setting the glass down, "He can drink his liquor as he wishes."
The night passed by in a slow blur. Duo had finished his six shots first, followed by Heero, then Trowa. Quatre was getting queasy by the fourth, so Duo took the remaining shots for himself, now pretty much on a slur.
"Hey, Heero," Duo seemed to say, "Who the fuck am I?"
He then got on his chair, and said in the whiniest voice he could muster, "HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEROOOOOOOOOO!"
Wufei held back a snort, Quatre seemed to feel his face grow warm at the embarrassment, and Trowa just remained silent. Heero grunted, "Sit down."
"Aaaw, you're no fun!" Duo whined, trying to get off, and yet he fell back in the process, landing on his head, "OW!"
Quatre got up, and slowly moved toward Duo, worried, "Are you ok?"
"Fiiiine," Duo muttered, "Peachy keen!"
At that moment, the woman returned, with the bottle of gin, and something else. Her gaze, however, moved toward the man on the floor, then looked amongst the table, "Does he still want this?"
There was a concurring 'no' from Trowa, Wufei, and Heero. The woman nodded, and then looked to the blonde boy.
"Cheer up, little one, you look like you need a drink," She then placed the red drink on the table, "Bloody Mary, on me."
Quatre looked up, and Trowa seemed to say nothing. More vodka. Great. The boy seemed to politely thank the woman and sip idly at the drink. Quatre was rarely capable of refusing anyone of something as petty as a drink. However, Trowa worried for the boy’s state of mind. Few had ever seen Quatre drunk, and the green eyed brunette wasn’t interested in finding out.
“Party’s over.” Trowa rose, “Let’s go.”
“Sit the fuck down Trowa, you’re not my mom!” Duo retorted, still drunk and giving the slurred answer while flipping off the other pilot. Quatre said nothing and Wufei snorted.
“Baka has a point,” He stated, “However, I’m finding this quite boring.”
“Because you’re not fucking getting drunk!” Duo stood up, “Drink something you Chinese Mr. I got something up my asssssss.”
A gunshot grazed the left side of Duo’s head. And instead hit a window, thus shattering it. Heero’s gun was still smoking. It were as if the reaction was clear. Duo’s drunken state was gone, instead he was dead still. The waitress looked up, and then toward the window.
“Uhm…pardon me, boys.” She slowly approached the five, “But I find it best you leave now. Your bill is here.” She handed it to the single sober person in the room; Wufei. He took the bill, paid, and the five left. Yet as they left, there was a solemn look within that girl’s eyes, as if to be a cross between mild amusement and a vicious joy.
The red liquid turned green, as the woman grabbed it, whisking it away. Silence had still enveloped the bar, but soon things returned to normal.
There she sat, beneath a shaded place, watching as the man seemed to just move amongst the crowds, as if nothing truly mattered to him. At the current moment, it seemed more like he was focused upon something else. She knew exactly what that was.
As he seemed to approach the stand beside her, she caught the concerned look in his eye, and she shifted her gaze, a small smirk on her little lips, as she awaited the man to approach. He seemed to gaze at an apple, and reached for it, gripping the apple.
“That will not help him,” She said softly, “Nothing of that nature will assist him.”
That had caught his attention. The green eyed man’s gaze shifted right to her, silent. She smirked.
“Normally, I would charge for a fortune, but the cards,” She paused, gazing at her deck, “They call for you. I will give you one free three card reading.”
The man approached, and she held up the deck, “Cut the cards, if you please.”
As the man did this, she leaned back, watching him carefully, then took the deck from him, and set the cards out, three cards, face down.
“The first card, is your past,” she said in a placid tone, lifting the card. The Two of Cups. A young boy and a young girl seemed to be gathered, holding two cups together lovingly.
“It seems, that before this conflict, you were in a relationship with someone. You still love them, I can see it on that face. That blank, expressionless face many would think tells nothing, but I can see right through that mask, boy. And I see your life spread right across this table.
“However,” She placed her fingers on the second card. A devil, with two mortals having chains over them, “The Devil. Something in your life is out of control, boy. It’s dangerous. You strive to stop this, but deep down, you know that you can’t. And by that, you have lost.”
“However…” Her hands moved to the final card, “If you continue to allow yourself to suffender, then this will be your fate,” She flipped the last card. Death. Upside down. The girl looked up.
“A great, but wicked change shall come to you. Perhaps…” She leaned back, her entire face shrouded by the cloak surrounding her, “By the death of your lover.”
His eyes burned through her, the glare seeming to pierce her heart, mind, spirit, “But, there is a way out.”
She placed her hand within the folds of her cloak, and pulled out a deep purple liquid, “This is the only known antidote to nearly any poison, and it will prevent your love from death by this lack of control.”
He rose from the chair, “How can you know it’s poison?” The tone was monotonous, yet she could sense the suspicion.
“Because, dear boy,” She looked at him, “Why else would you be seeking the requirements for organic medication?”
The man went silent, for a moment, then spoke in a small tone, “How could you be sure?”
She smirked, “I’ve watched you, boy. You went to the precious gems to seek bezoars, but they had none. You then tried methods you’ve heard of in the street. Boy, it’s clear when one is observant.”
He went silent, “Then fine, little one. Name your price.”
She smirked, and moved her hand to the cards, holding up one. The Page of Pentacles, “Be my servant when I call for you. Sell me your soul.”
He grit his teeth, “No.”
She smirked, putting the vial away, “Fine, may your lover die a swift and painless death.”
The man stood there, gritting his teeth, his hand clenched in a fist. Slowly, he looked down, and surrendered, “Fine.”
The girl smirked, and leaned toward him, the card pressed against his chest. There was a pain, like something sharp had spread through his body. And as soon as the pain came and reached a climax…it was gone, and she was gone, except for the purple vial.
And that was all there was to it.