The Black Butterfly and the Reaper [Invite/Closed]

[Delilah A. Black]

SPOILER: Click to show

OOC:

As an FYI, Marianne and I wrote this out a while back on Google Docs. This post takes place a couple weeks after the the destruction of the world. Any posts hereafter may take place anytime between then and now, as long as they are in chronological order and are specified as to when and where.

"Unfettered" is the first invite to this thread, under the guise of a 'report'. People can request to join after that point.

“Where is she, Franz!?”

“Damn it, Did I not tell you to watch her, Marie? You KNOW that she’s got so much shit on her head that it isn’t even funny---”

“Don’t you give me that.”

That was the conversation Emily had missed perhaps only a few minutes short of leaving the sight of her faithful “guardians” so to speak. Franz and Marie had always been loyal to her throughout the months, perhaps even years of suffering. The illness that Emily had was no joke, and in spite of everything -- it was only a matter of time that she would die.

It was a painful process. She deserved it. Every ounce of pain was deserved, especially with what she had done to someone she looked up to. Liked. Loved. Emily had done the worst crime of passion possible, and for the most despicable of intentions. There was absolutely no means to redeem herself for raping “Unfettered.” The friendship was now non-existent; destroyed because of her desperation for his attention.

She was like a child wanting acknowledgement. It was a petty act; she got what she deserved, none of her efforts fell through. She never really got pregnant; her Qi’s nature had rendered her completely sterile the moment she had managed to use it regularly when she was still in High School. Now it’s gone. Along with every ounce of self-respect.

She left Long beach. Taking everything, she ran to England. She left Kazuya in the dark and left without a word to him. She abandoned friends, mentors. Everything. On top of that, she had managed to marry someone she didn’t exactly know. Her husband was an interesting being, but certainly -- it was still quite like hell.

Getting Married to an A.I. wasn’t something that was so simple. There was no emotion. No physical connection. There was fondness, but nothing much was in between. Emily had grown to be no different.

She had changed so much in a year. Perhaps more than just a bit closer to death. She just wouldn’t die. Nothing she ever wanted ever happened. Perhaps it was meant to be.

Perhaps it was also fate that her weak feet brought her to what remained of PHS 259. The sick pile of rubble and soot still reeked of fire and blood. It was a sight to behold, not in a way that deserved awe in the good way -- but it certainly was fit for the woman’s last moments as more pain ran her over, coughing out blood as she fell to her knees. “Damn it. Just die already.” She muttered to herself, wiping the blood from her lips as she shook lightly, trying to get back up.

That wasn’t happening.

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


“Damn it. Just die already.”

“So you shall.”

Standing some distance behind Emily was her former comrade and one time friend, a far cry from the teenager she once was when she had last seen the white haired girl. That had been in San Francisco in years long past, back when there was high school and Militia and a Correctional Facility.

If Emily were to turn around, she would see her - Delilah - standing just on the edges of the shadows, one hand resting casually on the hilt of her katana, a gift from her sensei shortly before the bombs had fallen. Her face was almost completely void of emotion, her blue eyes flat as she fixed her gaze on Emily. Cold. Business-like. Only the slight curl of her upper lip betrayed the hint of anger she displayed. But only a hint.

This was the Delilah the end of the world had brought forth. There was no mercy in her heart.

Her left hand slid down the hilt to the sheath, her thumb resting on the underside of the tsuba, her right hand moving to rest lightly on the hilt of her blade.

“I’ve been looking for you for a long time,” She said, her tone more matter-of-fact than threatening. Slowly, she began to walk toward Emily with caution: she recalled how strong the Filipina had been all those years ago. She had been a pillar then, or something to that effect. Delilah wasn’t entirely 100% on that information, but it mattered little now. The world had moved on.

She stopped a few feet behind the woman kneeling in the ashes of the high school, a haunting place for Delilah for more than one reason. She pushed that aside for now, content with looking down at Emily, watching her die before her eyes in more ways than one. It seemed to Delilah that the regrets and the remorse in the Emily’s life was eating her from the inside. She was not long for this world.

All the more reason, then.

“I have to admit, I was certain I would never get to do this. I lost your trail sometime after the birth of my son. After that, I figured you had been lost to the attack. And yet here you are...

“Why did you come back?”

Delilah thought she knew why, had a glimmer of empathy despite the reason she was here. Atonement. Retribution. Forgiveness. But it was best to hear it from the horse's mouth, or so to speak...

Quietly, she awaited an answer.

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

“So the angel of death has come for me.” Emily said, half a chuckle escaping her lips. Maybe something close to that considering how pained it was to even mention death. It was deserved. About time.

Emily didn’t bother turning around or even do any further attempts at standing. The old School Captain and the Regalian Queen was technically now no better than dead. Her body had withered beyond repair and was now due for immediate closure. Now, there seems to be a choice between a death deserved and a death that she had coming for her for the longest time.

Death had been chasing after her for years. She had barely escaped death multiple times during her childhood; defying the will of God for the sake of prolonging her agony. And at her wake, allowing many to suffer the fate that she had deserved.

Her Qi was to blame that her parents burned to their death.

It was because of her inability to be useful that she was sold to a couple she eventually killed, and robbed a brother of his parents.

It was probably also because of her that her Mentor’s love died soon after they adopted her.

It was her fault that she didn’t have the self-control to stop herself from doing the most despicable thing someone could ever do to another human being. There was no redemption for her, not even in hell. If there was any place that promised worse punishment, Emily deserved to go there and stay there to burn for the rest of eternity.

“This place.” She said, Green eyes looking up weakly at the ruins through faded vision. Only memory served her sight now, or at least for the most part. She remembered fighting for this place; now it’s more likely that those still loyal to this school have branded her a criminal to be hunted and murdered on sight. There was no trial to be had for she was guilty from the very beginning. She wouldn’t bother defending herself either. “This place used to hold many happy memories.” Emily began again, “After all I’ve done, the least I could do is see those memories ruined.”

She chuckled, perhaps a bit darkly.

“There is no redemption for what I have done, so asking for it is pointless.” Emily then heaved a sharp gasp as pain shot through her left flank, holding her breath as she fell to her side and eventually landed on her back.

Red skies.

Everything was red. Like blood.

She’s seen a bit too much of that.

“The least I could do after all I’ve done is to die.” Closing her eyes, the woman laid on the ground, barely alive and barely dead. Completely helpless; not like she had the will to fight or to preserve whatever was left.

There was nothing left.

Why bother?

-----------

Delilah silently listened to the woman as she spoke, watching her with the same bland expression. Emily’s words resonated through her. That did not change her purpose, of course...Emily was dying. Was already dead, really, if you wanted to be poetic about it. Slow and agonizing. Fitting. Perhaps they both agreed on that.

She stared down at the Filipina for a long moment, watching her take the shallow, final breaths that would slowly count down to the end.

“It is admirable,” she admitted finally, breaking her silence, “that you would come to that conclusion.” Not that she had much choice, of course. Whether Delilah was involved or not, Emily would die soon. Still, she admired the fact that the girl could still face death unflinchingly, given her past. “You will never be able to atone for what you have done. You failed to take what you wanted, but you took something from him that he will never get back.” She didn’t have to say whom for Emily to know whom she was referring. “Even though it amounted to nothing, you betrayed him and destroyed that part of him in your selfishness. Not even your death can heal the wounds you have inflicted. Never.

“In killing you, I will release him of you, the burden you left him. He will heal. Your ashes shall be the salve. In killing you, I will avenge the trust you have broken.”

Delilah slid the sword silently out of it’s sheath, pointed the tip downwards toward the woman’s closed eyes, her hands steady. Her voice took on a surprisingly soft, soothing tone here, even while the air was filled with the tension of the task at hand. “It will slide over you. It will be warm. Let go of what is holding you here and slip into the current. Let it take you.” Delilah paused, inhaling slowly, her resolve steeled.

The tip of the blade would plunge down towards Emily’s closed eye, aimed to pierce her brain and end it quickly. The blade would bury all the way to the occipital lobe, slicing everything in between. Blood would spurt up, crimson tears running down Emily’s face and in her hair. With a twist, Delilah would pull her blade free, removing the gore and blood with a practiced flick. She would wait, watching expressionlessly until the girl stopped moving.

Delilah would close her eyes, feeling hollow, reflecting on the life she had taken. “Goodbye,” She whispered to no one, perhaps to the soul departing from the lifeless form before her. Kneeling, she would gather Emily’s hair in her hand and cut it with the sword, cutting as close to the scalp as she could. She would lay this to the side and take one of Emily’s fans. She wrapped the hair around the fan reverently, noting the blood had had soaked part of the snow white hair. That seemed appropriate, somehow, the way the white gave way to the blood red, as though it were tainted. With a grimace, she rose.

She thought about positioning the body or moving it, but thought the better of it. Emily was better off as she was, left for the world to see that she was gone. Let her be honest, she thought as she sheathed her sword, turning away. Let her body show what this has come to. This is who she truly is. What is left of a girl I used to know.

With a heavy sigh, clutching the remnants of Emily in her hands, Delilah would walk back into the shadows, alone with her thoughts.

-------

Once home at her little apartment in the Crow’s base, she would place the fan and the blood tinged hair in a box, carefully folding the lid over it. Assured it was secure, she thought about bringing the box to “Unfettered”’s door, leaving it there without knocking or calling his name. Much the way Emily had left this world: without ceremony or fanfare, left to die in quiet despair.

Instead, she went into what passed for her kitchen and put the box up on top of the cupboards. She would wait until it was time for her report to him to tell him. This would just be the proof of what she had done. The act itself was what mattered.

It wasn’t much, but it was something. She hoped it would give her oldest friend some semblance of peace. Of closure.

She turned and went back to her living room, padding silently back the way she came with the aim to mediate on the night before, on Emily’s dying words, committing them to memory. Heaven knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight, after that. In reality, it would be three days before she finally slept again.


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

Emily didn’t move or react to all of what Delilah had pointed out. It was true; she betrayed “Unfettered”. Willingly. It was planed; an act of desperation to ultimately tear him away from her life by making him hate her, loathe her. It worked partially as planned, but there had always been regrets.

She was guilty as charged. Emily wouldn’t escape judgement. Not this time. She would rather die by Delilah’s hands rather than anyone else’s.

“I was the first to join Militia, yet of all his men, I seem to be the one most forgotten -- by him..” She closed her eyes firmly, feeling the end drawing nearer with every sharp breath she took. It was quite true; she had been the first, along with Rem to join Militia. She was the co-founder -- and the most useless of all of them. He took her under his wing, then never bothered with her again.

It was as if she never existed.

He was seemingly avoiding her.

It made her desperate. Desperate for his approval, his attention, to finally be recognized as a soldier he could use. Emily truly wanted to return the confidence Jonathan had managed to give her -- only that he eventually took it away, taunting her with promise.

It drove her mad.

And it all lead to this. “I had never been useful to him; he’s ignored me forever.” It’s at this point she couldn’t help but shed a tear. “I am more useful to him dead than alive.”

…

Then the blow was dealt.

“Go...od... bye...”

And there was peace for the first time in years. There was no pain. No suffering. No regret.

It is done.