Revenge | By : Valisilwen Category: +. to F > 07-Ghost Views: 3029 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own 07 Ghost or any of the characters within, and I make no money off of this fic. |
A small, child-like figure sat curled up in a dark corner, his long, mauve braid falling over his shoulder as he stared blankly at the purple flower in his hands. On the surface, such person would seems very out of place on the Barsburg Empire's largest and most deadly battleship, however, if one looked close enough, one would see the dark aura surrounding this “child” that made him deadlier than any of the other fully grown men on the bridge of the Ribidzile.
What was most certainly out of place, however, was the manner in which the child was acting. Normally, when nothing important required his attention, the lavender-haired boy could be found sleeping peacefully in the arms of his subordinate. Which brought up another strange aspect of the child's behavior.
He was alone.
Kuroyuri was never alone. He always made sure of that. He never let Kuroyuri feel loneliness because, when he was left alone, the lavender-haired boy had nothing to distract him from the darkness. The awful, creeping darkness, lurking in the corners of his mind, constantly watching...and waiting. Watching for one small sign of weakness. Waiting for one little crack in his defenses, so that it could overwhelm him, isolate him, and devour him.
But he would never let that happen. He was always with Kuroyuri. Always protecting him, caring for him, never letting anything hurt him. He was always an absolute presence in Kuroyuri's life. Constant, unchanging, unwavering. They were like one entity in two bodies, one never seen without the other. And, foolishly, Kuroyuri thought it would always remain that way.
But he was wrong. And now, Haruse was gone.
The thought still brought with it a stab of white hot pain deep inside Kuroyuri. Haruse, his Haruse, was gone. He'd never see him again. He'd never hear his deep, comforting voice again. He'd never be able to tell Haruse how much he truly meant to Kuroyuri.
And it was all that damn Bishop's fault.
“Haruse. My Haruse. He broke my Haruse,” Kuroyuri whispered, still staring at the small, shining flower that had caused the demise of his dear Begleiter. “I'll kill him. I'll break him. I'll make him taste darkness and pain like he's never known, and then I'll kill him.”
********
A pair of sapphire eyes hidden behind black shades observed the small child still in the corner with a seemingly impassive gaze. Turning away, the owner of those eyes strode up to the raised platform at the center of the bridge, leaning down to whisper in a certain silver-haired chief's ear.
“Aya-tan, I think Kuroyuri might be planning something fun without us,” Hyuuga reported cheerfully.
Ayanami turned his deep violet gaze to study the small figure curled up in the corner. “Leave him be, for now. Let him have his vengeance, and his fun, and only intervene if his actions begin to interfere with our plans.”
Upon hearing his commanding officer's words, Hyuuga straightened up, still smiling cheerfully. “Whatever you say, Aya-tan!”
********
It was a beautiful, clear night at the Barsburg Church. The stars sparkled and glittered in the night sky, like diamonds on a back drop of black velvet, while the full moon shone like a silvery beacon, illuminating the Earth below almost as brightly as if it were day.
The moon had an especially mystical effect on the garden of the Church. All of the flowers within the glass dome seemed to shimmer and shine under the silver light, creating an ethereal paradise that made even the legendary Garden of Eden pale in comparison. And, just as Eden did, this garden also had its own guardian angel.
Though truly, this angel was more of a god. A god of mystical, unrivaled beauty that, as he walked through the garden on this clear, star-filled night, made the flowers hide their faces in shame.
The moonlight highlighted his lavender hair with stripes of silver, making it appear as though the it were streaked with pure starlight. What was visible of his pearly white skin through the conservative Bishop's robes he wore seemed to glow with the beauty of one who has not been tainted by the sin or mortality of man.
But by far, this god's most beautiful feature was his eyes. His beautiful, violet eyes that glittered like amethysts and practically radiated purity and innocence. Eyes that reflected the love and compassion the beautiful being had for all those around him.
So really, it was hard to believe that this beautiful, pure god was in fact a god of death.
Labrador sighed as he soundlessly walked among the flowers of the church's garden. Never in his life had the gentle Bishop been so grateful for the calming presence of his flowers. Their silent beauty never failed to ease his troubled mind, and after the previous days' events, his mind was more troubled than ever.
Though it had finally been proven that Frau was not the warsfeil responsible for the deaths of the criminals seeking sanctuary in the church, this revelation did not come without a heavy price.
When Assistant Arch Bishop Bastian, a man who was not only influential, but much beloved in the church, had been revealed as the true culprit—or at least one of the culprits—the entire church had been heartbroken, and no heart more so than Frau's own. The congregation's hearts were further shattered when, after failing in his mission to kill Teito and retrieve the Eye of Mikhail, the beloved Assistant Arch Bishop had lost his life.
And he was not the only one, Labrador thought bitterly.
Labrador knew the man had been their enemy. He knew that allowing the man to succeed in his mission would have meant the loss of not only Teito and the Eye if Mikhail, but Hakuren and Frau as well. He knew that the man could barely even be called human, as he only had half a soul in his body. And he knew that he had had no other choice but to kill that man.
So why did he still feel so guilty?
No, I know why, Labrador mused sadly. It was because of the child.
Actually, the “child” had been the warsfeil. He had committed heinous, gruesome crimes against both God and his fellow humans. He was sadistic and sociopathic, as well as only carrying half his soul within him. Truly, this “child” was one of the deadliest enemies Labrador had ever encountered.
But that man...he had died to save that child. Though Labrador's flowers were robbing him of his evil powers and thus killing him, it would have been a slow death. A painless death. Yet, this man had chosen to rush to his demise, all for the sake of saving the life of that warsfeil child.
Labrador cringed as he remembered the child's heartbreaking screams as he cried out for the man—Haruse, the child had called him—and gained no response.
No! Labrador admonished, shaking his head to clear away the unpleasant images. I can't think like that! If I hadn't done what I did, we would have lost Hakuren, Teito, and the Eye of Mikhail; as it is, we lost the Eye anyway. I mustn't second guess my actions, especially since there is nothing to be done about it now.
Though truly, Labrador's melancholy mood was not completely caused by the events of days past. While he, Castor, and Frau, as well as many of the Bishops, had done a complete sweep of the church many times over and determined that the threat of evil had finally left the sanctuary's walls, Labrador still could not shake the feeling that something very, very bad was about to happen.
What was equally, if not more upsetting to Labrador was that he could see no clear vision as to what this very bad “something” was. Up until now, whenever he had feelings like this, he would always get at least some form of insight into its cause, no matter how brief or insignificant that insight might be. But this time...nothing. Absolutely nothing.
Attempting to explain this unusual phenomenon to his comrades had resulted in much teasing and taunting from Frau, who claimed that violet-eyed Bishop was probably just suffering from paranoia after the stressful events of the past couple days. Still, deciding to air on the side of caution, Frau had decided to make Teito and Hakuren sleep in his room that night, with him and Castor both serving as sentries to guard the two young Bishops-in-training.
Labrador let out a small sigh of relief. Well, at least now, no matter what happens, those two will be safe. Then, thinking back on his words, Labrador amended, Well, relatively safe, at least, assuming Frau and Teito-kun do not attempt to kill one another...again.
Chuckling quietly at the images his thoughts had conjured up, Labrador continued his peaceful stroll through his garden.
So absorbed in silent tranquility of the flowers was Labrador that when a sudden loud rustling sound came from the bushes behind him, he almost cried out in surprise. Turning quickly around to assess what had caused the unexpected noise, he let out a breath of relief when he saw it was only Mikage, the small, pink dragon that was the reincarnation of Teito's best friend.
Smiling at the small dragon's antics as it attempted to free itself from the bush that had ensnared one of its wings, Labrador bent down and gently freed the poor creature, giggling delightedly when Mikage ran up his arm and nuzzled his cheek in gratitude.
“What are you doing out here, little one?” Labrador asked as he softly stroked the small creature's fur. It was very strange to find the pink dragon to be wandering about the church, and even stranger for him to be without the company of either Teito or Hakuren.
Hearing another noise coming from his right, Labrador turned, expecting to see either Teito or Hakuren, or possibly both, emerge from the bushes to claim the furry pink creature and make some excuse as to why they were wandering about so late.
Much to his surprise, however, it was not the two Bishops-in-training that emerged from the foliage, but a man, Emilio (1), Labrador believed he was called. While Labrador had never spoken with the man personally, he had often seen him around the garden and knew him to be a kind, gentle soul.
He was also, however, one of the criminals currently seeking sanctuary in the church.
Labrador was instantly reminded of how he learned this piece of information from Castor, and the odd warning that had followed.
“Labrador, I do not like the way that man looks at you.”
Labrador looked up at Castor in confusion, then followed his friend's gaze until he saw the man the other Bishop was referring to. Indeed, the man was staring at Labrador with a rather odd look on his face, but Labrador didn't see anything amiss about his gaze.
“What do mean? Is there something wrong with the way he looks at me?” Labrador asked, looking back up at his friend and cocking his head to the side in confusion.
Castor hesitated before replying, “Well...no, not as long as his intentions do not go beyond looking.”
This response only served to confuse Labrador further. “I'm afraid I still do not understand what you mean, Castor.”
Castor sighed. Despite the fact that the violet-eyed Bishop was in fact one of his fellow Ghosts, he still managed to retain a child-like naivety that Castor found both endearing and frustrating.
“What I mean is, I do not think it wise for you to associate yourself with that man. He is one of the criminals who is using the sanctuary offered by the church to escape the punishment of the law, so you should not be as trusting with him as you are with others.”
Labrador looked at his friend in shock. “Castor, I'm surprised at you. Isn't it our belief as Bishops that all beings created by God are inherently good? Doesn't everyone deserve the chance to turn their life around, no matter what they've done? If we of the church judge people based on their past indiscretions, how can we expect people to continue to put forth the effort to change?”
Castor heaved a sigh of frustration. “I realize that, Labrador, but the nature of that man's crime...” Castor trailed off, seeming unable, or unwilling, to continue with that line of thought. “Please, Labrador, just...just don't be alone with him, all right? Please, as a personal favor to me.”
Labrador still looked dubious, but nodded none the less. “Very well, Castor. If it will give you peace of mind.”
The chestnut-haired Bishop smiled, “Thank you, Labrador.”
Upon remembering his promise to Castor, Labrador decided it would be best to leave. Smiling at the man and apologizing for his hasty departure, the lavender-haired Bishop turned to leave, Mikage resting comfortably on his shoulder.
He had not taken two steps when he suddenly sensed a wave of evil so strong it knocked the breath from his lungs. It was like a whirlpool of hatred, malice, anger, and blood lust, so strong that Labrador couldn't believe he had not sensed it before now. Quickly spinning around, the sight that greeted him was almost enough to knock the breath from him all over again.
Emilio stood facing him, looking the same as he had just a few seconds ago. His oily blonde hair was shaggy and fell into his eyes. His skin was pale, almost sickly shade of white, and his clothes were tattered and in desperate need of washing. Really, he looked no different from the hundreds of other criminals that sought solace in the church.
Except, of course, for the one, boney kor wing sprouting from his back.
Before Labrador even had the chance to react, Emilio gripped him by the throat and threw him into one of the glass walls of the garden with such force that his body nearly shattered the six-inch thick glass.
In an instant, Emilio was on him again, pinning the small, delicate Bishop against the cracked glass by his neck, causing several of the razor sharp shards to drive deep into the delicate flesh of his back. Labrador struggled to breathe as his vision swam. Every nerve in his body was on fire. Still, Labrador resisted the sweet temptation of unconsciousness. No, he had to stay awake. He had to focus. If he could just separate his Ghost persona from his body, he could summon Frau and Castor and...
“Don't even think about, Profe,” chimed a young, bone-chillingly familiar voice. Lifting his hazy eyes to look past the man who currently had his throat in a death grip, Labrador was able to make out a small figure floating among black, creeping tendrils of wars. A figure dressed in a military uniform, with an eye patch covering his left eye and long, mauve-colored hair pulled back into a braid.
The warsfeil child. Kuroyuri.
The child laughed at the look of shock on Labrador's face. “Oh yes, I know who you really are. Truly, it wasn't that difficult to figure out. After all, if Feist and Zehel were both here as well, it's not a far stretch to assume you would be as well, especially since you have the same aura as them.”
“Now, back to the matter at hand,” Kuroyuri continued cheerfully. “Should you attempt to escape your punishment by separating yourself from your body, I will be forced to...” With a snap of his fingers, a ring of blood red zaiphon appeared around Emilio's neck.
“Kill him.”
Labrador froze. He couldn't do it. He couldn't let the child kill Emilio. Even if the former criminal was the one hurting him right now, Labrador knew it wasn't his fault. He was being controlled, and it was Labrador's duty, not only as a Bishop, but as a Ghost to free him. If he just let Emilio die, he might as well have killed the man himself.
Seeing the look of resignation in the captive Bishop's eyes, Kuroyuri smiled. “As expected of the ever compassionate Profe. Now,” the child continued, evaporating the zaiphon with another snap of his fingers, “Let's continue, shall we?”
At those words, Labrador was harshly yanked away from the shattered glass and thrown to the floor, his head connecting with the hard surface with such force that the violet-eyed Bishop saw stars. His right arm was pinned underneath him at an unnatural angle, and it throbbed with so much pain that Labrador felt nauseous, leading him to believe that it had been broken.
No sooner had he hit the ground then Labrador felt the creepy, disgusting feeling of the wars wrapping around his around his limbs. He was then roughly yanked up and pinned to the wall again, this time by the evil power of the child warsfeil.
Labrador couldn't help but cry out in pain as the rough movement put heavy strain on his broken arm. Being pinned so hard up against the wall also caused the glass shards embedded in his back to bury themselves even deeper into his flesh, causing a searing pain to shoot up his spine.
When the pain died down enough for Labrador to see straight, he looked up and saw Kuroyuri floating only a few feet in front of him. “You know, after you broke my Haruse with your damn flowers, I wanted to just hunt you down and kill you right then and there,” the mauve-haired child mused calmly, twirling a warsfeil knife in his hands.
“But then I realized something,” he continued, ceasing his fiddling with the knife. Then, with no warning, Kuroyuri jumped forward and, with shocking force for one of his size, drove the blade straight the soft flesh of Labrador's right shoulder.
Labrador's eyes shot open and he all but screamed in agony. Kuroyuri seemed to enjoy that. “I realized that just killing you would have been too. Damn. Easy,” the child ground out, punctuating each of his last three words with a cruel twist of the knife, each one wringing a strangled cry from Labrador's throat.
“Oh, is it painful?” Kuroyuri asked, feigning concern, as he gave the knife another hard twist. “You don't know the meaning of pain! Pain is when you lose the one person who was always by your side. Pain is knowing that, from that moment on, you will always be alone. Pain is...” Kuroyuri broke off, his voice cracking as tears began to stream down his face. “Pain is watching the person you love die, and knowing that they did it for you!”
Through his pain induced haze, Labrador felt a strong stab of pity and compassion for the sobbing child in front of him. Noticing that his bonds had loosened due to Kuroyuri's lack of control, he slowly reached out his left hand and tenderly caressed the child's cheek, causing Kuroyuri to glance up at him in shock.
“I'm sorry,” came Labrador's pained whisper, his own tears beginning to slide down his cheeks at the raw agony in Kuroyuri's eyes. “I'm so, so sorry.”
Kuroyuri just looked stunned for a moment, but soon after his face morphed into a mask of rage. Jerking his face away from Labrador's gentle touch, the warsfeil child jumped back to his original position a few feet away, roughly yanking the knife out of Labrador's shoulder in the process.
“Shut up! I don't need your pity! I don't need anything from you, except your worthless, pathetic life!” Kuroyuri shouted, regaining control over his wars and using it to hurl the small Bishop's bleeding body against one of the marble fountains in the garden.
Labrador's torso connected with the hard surface of the marble with such force that he not only felt his ribs snap, he heard it as well. He opened his mouth in a silent scream as the air was knocked from his lung and landed with a soft splash in the shallow water of the fountain, his chest rising and falling painfully as he struggled to draw air into his abused lungs, and his blood slowly turning the crystalline water crimson.
Kuroyuri knelt down next to Labrador's broken body, the warsfeil knife still clutched in his hand. Pressing the bloody instrument up against Labrador's throat, the child hissed, “And I don't want you Goddamn apologies, Profe. Apologizing won't bring my Haruse back to me.”
“And will my death make bearing the weight of Haruse's death any easier for you?” Labrador whispered, blood beginning to trickle down his neck as the blade dug ever deeper.
Kuroyuri's hand trembled as he pulled the knife away from Labrador's throat, only to backhand the fragile man so viciously that he cried out in shock. “Don't you dare say his name with your filthy mouth! He is far above one such as you!”
Kuroyuri stepped out of the fountain, taking a deep breath to reign in his emotions. When he had regained control of himself, he turned back to face Labrador, a false smile on his face. “How terribly inconsiderate of me. Here I've been having all the fun, when I promised our friend Emilio here that he could have a turn before I finished you,” the pink-eyed boy said cheerfully, gesturing to the half-kor man who had come up beside him. Handing his knife to the criminal, Kuroyuri's smile morphed into a dangerous smirk. “Emilio, go have your fun.”
Immediately Emilio leapt forward, gripping Labrador by the neck and tossing him out of the fountain and on to the hard, unforgiving ground. Before Labrador could get his bearings enough to stand up, Emilio was on him again, pinning him on his back and gripping both his wrists in one hand, pinning them above the small Bishop's head.
Labrador let out a gasp of pain as the rough movement pulled at both his broken arm and bloody shoulder. “E-Emilio! Please, you have to stop this! This isn't you, you're being controlled by the warsfeil! Please, Emilio, you have to fight him! Please!”
Kuroyuri laughed. “The naivety of the righteous never ceases to amaze me. You always try to find goodness where there is none to be found. Tell me, Profe, do you have any idea what this man's crime was?”
Labrador just looked at the child in confusion, then gasped as Emilio used the warsfeil knife to slice his bloodstained Bishop's robes right down the middle, leaving Labrador's upper half completely exposed.
“This man was no ordinary traitor or murderer. After all, where would the fun in that be?” Kuroyuri chuckled. “No, his crimes were something of a far more disturbing nature than murder or treachery. What they are, however...well, I'm sure you can figure that out for yourself.”
Labrador froze as everything he had not understood before clicked into place. The looks Emilio gave him. The reason Castor had been so unforgiving when it came to this one criminal. The reason the other Bishop had insisted he never be alone with Emilio. It all came together in a clear, horrifying picture.
Labrador immediately redoubled his efforts to get free, kicking and flailing, heedless of the pain it caused his bruised and broken body. No matter what, he refused to kill Emilio by separating his Ghost persona from his body, but that did not mean that he would just allow himself to be violated like this!
Emilio, apparently growing annoyed with Labrador's struggles, gripped the knife tightly in his hand and drove it deep into the muscle of Labrador's left thigh.
Labrador's eyes glazed over and he screamed, his pain-filled cries only growing louder as Emilio dragged the knife further down his leg, carving a bloody path in his his wake. When he reached the area just above Labrador's knee, he stopped and yanked the knife out, retching another agonized shriek from the Bishop beneath him.
When the intense pain finally came to an end, Labrador found himself only semi-conscious. He was just about to slip into the welcome, unfeeling darkness of complete unconsciousness, when he suddenly felt rough, calloused hands running over the soft skin of his chest and torso and a hot, wet mouth licking and biting its way down his neck.
Instantly, Labrador's eyes shot wide open and he renewed his efforts to escape. He needed to do something, anything, to get away from the foreign, disgusting touch.
His efforts proved futile, however, and soon, Emilio began working on removing his pants, the last barrier that stood between Labrador and utter violation.
Turning his head away so he would not have to watch, Labrador locked eyes with Kuroyuri, who was watching the scene unfolding before him with an impassive look on his face.
“Why?” Labrador asked, fresh tears streaming down his face. “Why did you have to choose him? Why, of all the criminals taking shelter here, why did you choose the one who would do this to me?”
Kuroyuri's expression became a bitter, sad parody of a true smile. “Because I want you to have to suffer the same pain as I am. I want you to have to experience true darkness, and then have to live with it forever more, completely and utterly alone.
********
Castor passed up and down Frau's chamber, unable to relax. Frau, Teito, and Hakuren had long since surrendered to sleep, but Castor found himself unable to do the same. He just could not shake the feeling that something was very, very wrong.
Suddenly, an odd sound, like something scratching on the other side of the door, reached Castor's ears. Instantly on alert, he slowly crept towards the door, the sound seeming to become more and more urgent with every step he took.
When he finally reached the door, the chestnut-haired Bishop gripped the door knob tightly and, in one swift movement, yanked it open.
He was instantly greeted by a small, pink ball of fluff flying at his face, chattering so loudly and anxiously that everyone in the room was immediately awakened.
“Ugh, what does that damn fuzz ball want now,” Frau grumbled, sitting up in his coffin. “It's the middle of the Goddamn night! I knew we should have kept him locked in the brat's room.”
Everyone ignored him, however, upon seeing how frantic and terrified the small dragon was. “Mikage?” Teito said worriedly, coming up beside Castor. “What's wrong? I've never seen you like this before,” he continued, moving to take the pink animal from Castor.
Mikage would have none of it however, and dodged Teito's seeking hands and took off back out the door like a bat out of hell, making various high pitched noises along the way.
“Good, he's gone. Now we can all get back to sleep,” Frau yawned, lying back down in his coffin and turning his back toward the door.
Once again, the others ignored him. “I think he wants us to follow him,” Hakuren stated, running out of the chamber in order to catch up with the agitated animal.
Castor and Teito followed, as did Frau, who left the room grumbling, “This had better be pretty damn good.”
Castor's feeling that something was wrong only got worse and worse the more the group followed Mikage. Something dark had entered the church. Something dark and evil. And apparently, he was not the only one who felt it. Hakuren and Teito were on full alert, their bascules at the ready, while Frau had his right arm out and at the ready, should he need to summon Verloren's scythe.
When the group finally reached their destination, Castor froze. They were standing outside the entrance to the garden, and the feelings of a dark, evil malice were so strong that it almost took Castor's breath away. But that was not why he froze.
“Castor-san? Are you—” Teito began, but Castor waved a hand, cutting him off and motioning for the others to remain quiet as well. Listening carefully, Castor could hear a soft, broken sobbing. The others were able to hear it as well and, judging by the looks of horror on their faces, they realized what had made Castor's blood run cold.
The sobbing voice belonged to Labrador.
Without another thought, the four of them charged forward through the entrance of the garden, sprinting as fast as they could towards the source of the soft, broken noise. Yet as they got closer to the comrade, the more they were able to discern the pain-filled words that punctuated the sobs.
“P-Please...please stop...it-it hurts...please, I don't want this! Please just make it stop! Please!”
The sound of Labrador's crying, pleading voice ignited a fury in Castor that he had never felt before. Picking up his pace, Castor passed the others and finally broke through to the glass dome that made up the main garden, but the sight that greeted him made all his rage die away in an instant, replacing it with a cold, numb shock.
Labrador was lying on the ground completely exposed, his robes lying in tatters underneath his body. Every bit of exposed skin that was visible to Castor's eye was covered in either blood or bruises. But that wasn't the worst of it. Not by a long shot.
A man lay on top of Labrador's naked body. A man who, with every thrust of his hips, caused Labrador to cry out in pain and anguish. Not in his worst nightmares had Castor been prepared for this.
At the sound of Teito's strangled gasp as he and Hakuren and Frau came upon the scene, all of Castor's previous fury returned, and it seemed to have grown ten-fold in its brief absence. In an instant, Castor was on the man, throwing him off of Labrador with such force that his body splintered the trunk of the tree he landed against, after which he slumped to the ground, unconscious.
Turning back to his injured friend, Castor was relieved to see that Teito and Hakuren had both taken off their upper robes and used them to cover Labrador's body. Kneeling down next to the unmoving Bishop, Castor tenderly caressed Labrador's bruised cheek. “Labrador? Can you hear me? Please, Labrador, open your eyes. Please just let me see those beautiful violet eyes again. Please, Labrador.”
Slowly, almost hesitantly, Labrador's eyes fluttered open. “C-Castor?” he moaned, his pain-glazed eyes meeting his friend's frantic gaze. Fresh tears began to fall down his face as sobbed, “I-I'm sorry, Castor. I tried to fight him. I tried to get him off me, but I couldn't, and he...he...”
“Shh,” Castor crooned soothingly, gently stroking Labrador's blood-matted hair. “You have nothing to apologize for. You did nothing wrong. Absolutely nothing. Just rest now.”
“I couldn't let him die,” Labrador mumbled, drifting towards unconsciousness. “I just couldn't let the child kill Emilio...”
Castor looked concerned, wondering if his friend was suffering from some form of head trauma in addition to all his other wounds, when suddenly Teito cried out, “Castor-san! Look out!”
Before Castor even had time to react, he was pushed roughly forward, almost landing on top of Labrador, followed by the harsh sound of metal connecting with metal. Turning around, Castor saw that his savior had been Frau, who had apparently deflected a dagger that had been meant for the chestnut-haired Bishop's heart with his scythe. And his attacker was...
“So, you're the bastard that did this to Labrador, eh, Kuroyuri?” Frau growled, fury lacing his every word.
Kuroyuri smiled. “Yep. But I can't take all the credit. Your friend Emilio over there was a big, big help.”
“You son of a bitch! I'll kill you!” Frau screamed, lunging at the small warsfeil with the scythe. The child easily dodged the attack, giggling all the while. “Sorry, Zehel, but I've already had my fun for today, so I can't play with you now. However, I will do you one favor before I go.”
Without warning, Kuroyuri fired an orb of crimson zaiphon at the unconscious Emilio, shattering the one kor wing attached to his back, the only thing anchoring the remaining half of his soul to his body. Slowly, Emilio's body began to disintegrate, eventually erasing any sign that he had been there at all.
“My revenge is complete. I have no more business here,” Kuroyuri said, his voice suddenly cold. Instantly, he was enveloped by his wars, disappearing all together.
For a moment, no moved. No spoke. Time seemed to stand still, as if God was giving them one last brief, blissful moment of ignorance before they had to acknowledge the gruesome truth.
Kuroyuri may have said his revenge was complete, but in reality, it was only just beginning.
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