Trapped in what you know...
WHO: Soul Eater Evans (soulnommer); OPEN to Black Star & Maka
WHAT: Nightmare Event
WHERE: Soul Eater House
WHEN: Midnight
It was dark. Night was obvious - there was a moon in the sky, snickering quietly. He rubbed his temples. What was this place? His red eyes scanned the night. No stars. He looked around. Almost as soon as the thought occurred in his mind, a scream pierced his night.
His heart thumped - Maka. Immediately, he took off. Why had he wandered away from her? Yet, even as he ran, the buildings seemed to repeat themselves. Barber shop. Music hall. Tailoring. Cobbler. Barber shop. Music hall. His breath came in gasps, even as he heard more screams, both horrified and tortured. No, not Maka. His stomach clenched.
Why in the goddamn hell had he not been near her? His breath became labored, but he was no closer to Maka than he had started out. He pressed harder, hoping somehow, but only hearing her screams. Fury began to pour into him as he worried for his meister's safety. She could hold her own, certainly, but she was no Black Star. She couldn't directly channel her wavelength...
Finally! A gate appeared and he slammed into it. The bars jingled, taunting him. He grabbed them and tugged against the chain lock with all his might; nothing would work. Before his eyes, Maka seemed to appear from the wispy black smoke. She was bruised and battered, uniform torn, but she was whole. Her face was a vague smile, promising without words that she would be okay.
"I'm fine, Soul, really..." Her voice was soft. She held her right arm with her left, blood pouring out slightly. "Don't worry."
His breathing was still hard as he yanked against it. "Maka... What the hell happened?" A thought occurred to him. His body turned into light, metal replacing flesh. The scythe toppled over through the bars, at Maka's feet. She picked him up. "Now, where the hell's this bastard?" With a shimmer, his face appeared in the blade.
He saw her face. "It's nothing, Soul." She sighed and held him out, prompting a change into human form. He sighs. What can he do when Maka is being so stubborn?
"What the hell happened? You're beat up and won't talk." His face was a combination of fear, worry, and irritation.
She tried to smile; it became a wince as she took a step. "Really, Soul. Just stop worrying about me. You don't look so cool doing it." He frowned and vanished, sulking inside himself.
Ha~ha~ As if on cue, the laughter of a tiny red demon pierced his mind and he was sitting in his chair, black pinstripe suit uncomfortably tight. If you had a little more power... maybe you could just find out why she's hurt, Soul-kun~ He was teasing.
Soul's eyes narrowed. "Shut up. I know where this is going. I'm not going insane. Maka can't handle it right now."
But you know you could fight that kishin egg all by yourself if you did... just a little and you would be stronger than Kid! Irritation showed on his face as the demon continued, tapping and clicking. Just a little Soul-kun, aren't you tempted?
"No." He stood, eyes glazing over the black piano. It was a nice instrument. There was a sound that resonated through the room, two notes striking a dissonance.
There was snickering. Just a note or two, Soul-kun, just a few notes. She'll never know.
A gasp of surprise forced him out of the room. It was instinct and he began looking around the world from his blade. The view was awkward and he realized he was laying on the ground. He could only stare at the black above him. The scythe became light and he became human once more.
"Maka! Maka, where the goddamn hell are you?" He shouted into the night and another scream led him through the world. It was another graveyard. He passed them by, the names burning themselves into his mind.
Elizabeth Thompson
Patricia Thompson
Nakatsukasa Tsubaki
Black Star
Maka Albarn
He stopped dead in his tracks. His stomach twisted uncomfortably. He had just seen her... Maka had just been alive and well.
"You saw." The voice haunted him. A woman dressed entirely in black emerged from behind the tree over Maka's grave. A strong oak. Her face was beautifully tempting, kind features almost begging the viewer to trust her. Spider webs traced gently over her irises and Soul looked her dead in the face. "It was such a pity that day..." She smiled serenely. Her face twisted into slight amusement. "Don't you remember, Soul Eater? No?" She drew out, darkness seeming to cling to her. "It was a day, not unlike this." It seemed to darken as she drew closer to him. His feet seemed to have sunk into the ground; he couldn't move. "That day... I'm glad I know. My spies are very good to me, you know. I wouldn't have believed them otherwise."
He found his voice: "You're being evasive. How the hell did they all die? I just saw Maka!"
She smiled and gently strings descended from the tree. Soul began tugging at them as soon as they fell around his arms. "Listen, listen." Her voice was soothing. It clouded his mind. "That day, one Weapon went rogue." Arachne's face was undisturbed. "Can't you guess who it is, Soul Eater?"
His stomach dropped. "No..."
A finger gently traced his cheek. "Yes, Soul Eater Evans, it was you."
Soul began tearing at the strings. Tiny lines of blood formed around on his body; the struggling only tightened the thickening cocoon. "You fucking liar!" How could he have even tried to kill Maka? And it was impossible for him to have killed Black Star, let alone Liz and Patti too.
Her eyes met his. "Stop acting like a child, Soul Eater, and face your destiny... The Weapon branded a traitor, hated of Shibusen, shame of his family." She stepped back. He began pulling harder, wanting nothing more than to strike Arachne. He let out a yell, tearing harder. The iron-hard threads seemed to tear right past his clothes and into his skin.
"You liar!" His muscles bulged. "I couldn't-"
"Couldn't you?" Her voice was as calm as before. "You haven't wished, even in the slightest, for one to be dead at some time? Not even once, Soul Eater?" She smiled. "Remember that I know everything about you, right down to the dream you had of me."
His eyes widened. She knew... "This is another of your damn tricks! Let me go. They're not dead."
Soul yanked harder, fury and disbelief fueling him. One single string snapped with a sullen note. From the background, there was a furious yell. His heart leapt - Maka wasn't dead. It was her... Maka was wielding a large pole, a good substitute for him.
Arachne whipped around. With a single string, she yanked it from the girl's grasp and plunged it through Maka's stomach. There was only enough time for her to look surprised.
He let out an anguished yell.
Soul gasped and tried to sit up. The surprise was cut short as he slammed back against something, emitting a musical twang. All up and down his body, piano strings were tied and wrapped around his limbs. Red coated the strings as it cut him, tiny droplets falling into the instrument. He tried to breathe in again, but there was tight against his neck, holding him against the strings.
He lay back, trying to release the pressure on his body. Nothing seemed to work and even that seemed to tighten further. When would the nightmare be over? He breathed heavily. Maka couldn't be dead. He had to be there to protect her, not watch helplessly as she died before him.
The scythe opened his mouth to call for her, begging anyone that she would come running, alive and unharmed. His heart was racing; he was disoriented. He could barely breathe, but with any luck... No, he had no luck.
He could only see the surprise on Maka's face as the pole pierced her stomach.
WHAT: Nightmare Event
WHERE: Soul Eater House
WHEN: Midnight
It was dark. Night was obvious - there was a moon in the sky, snickering quietly. He rubbed his temples. What was this place? His red eyes scanned the night. No stars. He looked around. Almost as soon as the thought occurred in his mind, a scream pierced his night.
His heart thumped - Maka. Immediately, he took off. Why had he wandered away from her? Yet, even as he ran, the buildings seemed to repeat themselves. Barber shop. Music hall. Tailoring. Cobbler. Barber shop. Music hall. His breath came in gasps, even as he heard more screams, both horrified and tortured. No, not Maka. His stomach clenched.
Why in the goddamn hell had he not been near her? His breath became labored, but he was no closer to Maka than he had started out. He pressed harder, hoping somehow, but only hearing her screams. Fury began to pour into him as he worried for his meister's safety. She could hold her own, certainly, but she was no Black Star. She couldn't directly channel her wavelength...
Finally! A gate appeared and he slammed into it. The bars jingled, taunting him. He grabbed them and tugged against the chain lock with all his might; nothing would work. Before his eyes, Maka seemed to appear from the wispy black smoke. She was bruised and battered, uniform torn, but she was whole. Her face was a vague smile, promising without words that she would be okay.
"I'm fine, Soul, really..." Her voice was soft. She held her right arm with her left, blood pouring out slightly. "Don't worry."
His breathing was still hard as he yanked against it. "Maka... What the hell happened?" A thought occurred to him. His body turned into light, metal replacing flesh. The scythe toppled over through the bars, at Maka's feet. She picked him up. "Now, where the hell's this bastard?" With a shimmer, his face appeared in the blade.
He saw her face. "It's nothing, Soul." She sighed and held him out, prompting a change into human form. He sighs. What can he do when Maka is being so stubborn?
"What the hell happened? You're beat up and won't talk." His face was a combination of fear, worry, and irritation.
She tried to smile; it became a wince as she took a step. "Really, Soul. Just stop worrying about me. You don't look so cool doing it." He frowned and vanished, sulking inside himself.
Ha~ha~ As if on cue, the laughter of a tiny red demon pierced his mind and he was sitting in his chair, black pinstripe suit uncomfortably tight. If you had a little more power... maybe you could just find out why she's hurt, Soul-kun~ He was teasing.
Soul's eyes narrowed. "Shut up. I know where this is going. I'm not going insane. Maka can't handle it right now."
But you know you could fight that kishin egg all by yourself if you did... just a little and you would be stronger than Kid! Irritation showed on his face as the demon continued, tapping and clicking. Just a little Soul-kun, aren't you tempted?
"No." He stood, eyes glazing over the black piano. It was a nice instrument. There was a sound that resonated through the room, two notes striking a dissonance.
There was snickering. Just a note or two, Soul-kun, just a few notes. She'll never know.
A gasp of surprise forced him out of the room. It was instinct and he began looking around the world from his blade. The view was awkward and he realized he was laying on the ground. He could only stare at the black above him. The scythe became light and he became human once more.
"Maka! Maka, where the goddamn hell are you?" He shouted into the night and another scream led him through the world. It was another graveyard. He passed them by, the names burning themselves into his mind.
Elizabeth Thompson
Patricia Thompson
Nakatsukasa Tsubaki
Black Star
Maka Albarn
He stopped dead in his tracks. His stomach twisted uncomfortably. He had just seen her... Maka had just been alive and well.
"You saw." The voice haunted him. A woman dressed entirely in black emerged from behind the tree over Maka's grave. A strong oak. Her face was beautifully tempting, kind features almost begging the viewer to trust her. Spider webs traced gently over her irises and Soul looked her dead in the face. "It was such a pity that day..." She smiled serenely. Her face twisted into slight amusement. "Don't you remember, Soul Eater? No?" She drew out, darkness seeming to cling to her. "It was a day, not unlike this." It seemed to darken as she drew closer to him. His feet seemed to have sunk into the ground; he couldn't move. "That day... I'm glad I know. My spies are very good to me, you know. I wouldn't have believed them otherwise."
He found his voice: "You're being evasive. How the hell did they all die? I just saw Maka!"
She smiled and gently strings descended from the tree. Soul began tugging at them as soon as they fell around his arms. "Listen, listen." Her voice was soothing. It clouded his mind. "That day, one Weapon went rogue." Arachne's face was undisturbed. "Can't you guess who it is, Soul Eater?"
His stomach dropped. "No..."
A finger gently traced his cheek. "Yes, Soul Eater Evans, it was you."
Soul began tearing at the strings. Tiny lines of blood formed around on his body; the struggling only tightened the thickening cocoon. "You fucking liar!" How could he have even tried to kill Maka? And it was impossible for him to have killed Black Star, let alone Liz and Patti too.
Her eyes met his. "Stop acting like a child, Soul Eater, and face your destiny... The Weapon branded a traitor, hated of Shibusen, shame of his family." She stepped back. He began pulling harder, wanting nothing more than to strike Arachne. He let out a yell, tearing harder. The iron-hard threads seemed to tear right past his clothes and into his skin.
"You liar!" His muscles bulged. "I couldn't-"
"Couldn't you?" Her voice was as calm as before. "You haven't wished, even in the slightest, for one to be dead at some time? Not even once, Soul Eater?" She smiled. "Remember that I know everything about you, right down to the dream you had of me."
His eyes widened. She knew... "This is another of your damn tricks! Let me go. They're not dead."
Soul yanked harder, fury and disbelief fueling him. One single string snapped with a sullen note. From the background, there was a furious yell. His heart leapt - Maka wasn't dead. It was her... Maka was wielding a large pole, a good substitute for him.
Arachne whipped around. With a single string, she yanked it from the girl's grasp and plunged it through Maka's stomach. There was only enough time for her to look surprised.
He let out an anguished yell.
Soul gasped and tried to sit up. The surprise was cut short as he slammed back against something, emitting a musical twang. All up and down his body, piano strings were tied and wrapped around his limbs. Red coated the strings as it cut him, tiny droplets falling into the instrument. He tried to breathe in again, but there was tight against his neck, holding him against the strings.
He lay back, trying to release the pressure on his body. Nothing seemed to work and even that seemed to tighten further. When would the nightmare be over? He breathed heavily. Maka couldn't be dead. He had to be there to protect her, not watch helplessly as she died before him.
The scythe opened his mouth to call for her, begging anyone that she would come running, alive and unharmed. His heart was racing; he was disoriented. He could barely breathe, but with any luck... No, he had no luck.
He could only see the surprise on Maka's face as the pole pierced her stomach.