Post by guess on Jul 21, 2011 22:21:03 GMT -5
Everything rattled; they moved, shook, readjusted themselves. It didn't matter. The train kept on moving as surely as they kept on living --but the darkness in the corner, in the insanity in the corner, her eyes turned down, her fingers wrapped in a tight fist around the bar. They live in fearlessness, not knowing true pain, true agony -- her eyes are tight, fire livid under her skin as she tries to keep the voices out, to keep the need for pain, for agony under control: just a little longer and she'll be able to get off. Get out. Get away --
--- but Lucy, dear, there was no outrunning yourself.
Her shoulders tremble as the stench of body odor begins to saturate the train -- as sweat and grime and the press of too many bodies coming closer and closer brings her ever closer to the edge she knew he would fall over. She struggled the same way every time; every time she came away with blood on her hands. This time was no different; this time, when she exploded, there would still be blood on her hands, and glee in her heart -- she would hear silence instead of chatter, feel the cool breeze of space, instead of this cluttered mess of human filth.
The girl wasn't human, and she could never be human; yet in their faces, she saw Kouta, smiling at her, holding out his hand without fear, knowing who she was, what she was -- what she could do. Still he held out his hand, unable to comprehend a moment where he should be afraid. She knew love, too, didn't she? Yes, she held it so close it was suffocated by the hate that overwhelmed her -- she treasured the little spark of goodness within her, even as she pulsed, as she snapped, her vector bursting free like a gulp of air after breathless smothering.
They burst free, and she burst with them; her head snapping up, her eyes flashing as she watched them all die, her vectors sliding into their bodies and tearing them all apart. Blood flowed hot against her skin, splattered along with the grime of days without washing. Months, perhaps. Her smile was nonexistent -- she stared through dead, sad eyes as she killed them all, mercilessly, methodically. It was simply their time.
Lucy's hands reach around a young girl's throat as she trembles, eyes wide. "Don't hurt me" the girl whispers. Lucy pauses, considering the girl trembling in her hand. "I won't." she says, and kills the girl with a quick flick of her wrist, like someone would kill a chicken for dinner. Quick, painless. This wasn't a game anymore. This was an extermination of the human race.
Good guys versus bad? She would smile if she remembered how. Instead she kills and kills, knowing there will always be more people who would take their places, lining up, readying for death. And Lucy would oblige them with pleasure; her eyes are glowing now, though she is covered in blood, though the windows are splattered with organs and death, and the stench of bowel movements has bottled up inside the cart. Eventually, the train stops, and she stumbles out of the car, her eyes rising, the twin sets of horns poking out of her skull a testament to her alien nature. She isn't supposed to worry about them -- but even as she stares at her red hands, ignoring the stunned look of those around her, Lucy can't help but picture Kouta's face as he stares at her.
"He would be horrified" she says, softly, as her vectors slip quietly around her back, invisible and harmless when they weren't in use. "I should be horrified" but she's not. Instead, grimly, she turns to the old lady staring at her with her mouth agape, and rips her head off of her shoulders. "It's time for you all to die." she says, pitching her voice loudly so they could hear her. Yes, yes, definitely time to die. Time enough to live and to torture others -- now it was their turn to feel the same suffering.
After all, what was a little blood between enemies?
word count;; 703
tags;; Anyone <3 EVERYONE.
OOC;; I may make this look prettier. Probably won't though T_T