[Closed] We Are Beyond Repentance...

[suchselfishness]

Characters: Nea Walker [ 14thapostle ] & Rhode Kamelot [ suchselfishness ]
Location: General area of Deadly Pretty Maid Cafe => Creeping Crypt
Rating: PG-13, leaning toward R
Time: November 5, Midmorning
Description: Despite her efforts to avoid him, Rhode's past finally catches up to her.

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[14thapostle]

The heels of his boots clicked quietly against the cobblestone road as he walked behind Rhode, making sure to keep a careful distance, to stay out of plain sight. This place, Shibusen, had softened her. It made her weak, unassuming, reckless, a mere shell of the Rhode he remembered. She bore only a slight resemblance to the monster he once knew, the one that buried her poisoned fangs underneath petticoats and lace.

Although, perhaps, it was a clever ruse. Just another means to an end, to manipulate those around her and destroy them like porcelain dolls once they had outlived their purpose.

She certainly found herself haughty enough when she thought she was safe, protected by thick walls and a tiny little device. Would she retain that same attitude when he was right in front of her, he wondered. The question excited him, lingering in the back of his mind for the days. Now that he was right here, only a few steps behind her, it was all he could think about. Fantasies of what he was going to do to her when he got his hands on her, how he was going to make her remember why his mere name should chill her down to her bones.

He waited, waited, and waited until Rhode finally turned that corner and dipped into the quiet little alleyway that would be her undoing. He stepped into the narrow passage, hidden between thick brick walls of two useless buildings, after her, rapidly closing the distance between the two of them.

Rhode wasn’t going to get away this time, there was no escape for her now. His thin fingers snapped around her neck in an instance, painfully tight before he slammed her roughly against the wall. Her head cracked loudly against the bricks, the sound echoing throughout the alleyway. For a moment she was beautiful, face twisted in surprise and pain.

What a shame that all moments faded.

“My, my. Looks like you should be more careful, my dear Rhode.”

[suchselfishness]

Side streets were not Rhode’s favorite places, after the last encounter she’d had in an alleyway. The passage between the back wall of the café and the buildings that neighbored it was hardly large enough to be considered a real threat, however, with the way the sun managed to keep it well-lit throughout most of the morning.

Today, however, she slowed for a moment in her progress down the alley to listen for an odd echo in her ears. Click, click, click-- And not from her own shoes, at that rate. The footsteps behind her weren’t an echo, and they matched a pace that was too familiar for comfort. Rhode began walking faster, ready to break into a sprint for the door near the far end, but it was only a matter of moments before she felt the vice grip close on her neck.

Even as he threw her into the wall, she was striking out in an attempt to hit his wrist, force him to release; futile, really, since it lost most of its force when her vision exploded into painful, red blindness the instant her skull cracked against the brick. In an odd, detached moment between the actual impact and the debilitating pain, Rhode noted that a brick wall was far harder than the last kick she’d gotten in the head. The moment passed, however, and she found herself rather distracted by the fact that her skull felt like it had been shattered into a hundred pieces.

“N-- Nea.”

She half-gasped his name, bringing a hand to her face in a poor attempt to suppress the pain exploding in her head-- To check if it was bleeding, since it certainly felt like it was. It was harder to manage when she had little to no sense of her bearings. There was no time to be wasted, however: her other hand was scrambling over her skirt for her pocket, trying to get hold of her communicator.

[14thapostle]

Years and years had passed since he had last stood in front of this girl-in reality, this woman. How long had it been? How many years had past since he last stood in front of Rhode, golden eyes glittering with malicious intent, the blood of her precious kin still clinging to his clothes, and his original body still intact? He was shorter now, weaker, and damned to a body tainted by the wretched Innocence and a face nothing like his own. A face that belonged to the boy that Rhode loved, the little and lost lamb that was Allen Walker.

The boy’s face was what stared back at him in mirror, filling him with bitterness and longing. He longed for what was now long lost, his own body. The body that Mana, Marian, and that wretched Noah family loved. The one that nearly slaughtered them all and by all rights should have been their final undoing.

However, he supposed he could make due with this one. After all, it was his now. This body, this face, and this precious scar, this jagged red hand (tight around Rhode’s neck, squeezing, and delighting in the feel of the thrum of her pulse underneath his palm), they were all his now. The sharp ridges of his knuckles bit into her skin, and for a moment Nea truly admired this awkward body.

However, he was not so distracted that he could overlook her desperate little hands clawing towards the pocket. He let out a quiet whuff of a laugh before clasping the fingers of his good hand around her wrist and slamming it back against the wall.

“No one is coming to help you this time,” he cooed to her, leaning forward to whisper it softly in her ear, his lips just barely brushing against the lobe. “You’re all alone here.”

“Now, scream,” he murmured just before hooking his fingers with hers and violently jerking them backwards. Each digit cracked loudly as the bones broke, echoing throughout the alleyway.

[suchselfishness]

His grip on her neck was making it rather difficult for her to breathe, and she pressed farther back against the wall in an attempt to move away from the pressure-- And the chilling sensation of his lips on her ear. It was a bit surreal, to feel this kind of revulsion at an exact replica of the body she liked so much.

This was not Allen, though, and it never would be. This was Nea. And he would stop at nothing to destroy her, her Family, and the Earl.

“You’re wrong.” She snapped, turning her face away from him, avoiding eye contact and looking to the end of the alley. “I’m not alone.”

Perhaps it was one of those days, when Mukuro would be bored enough to follow her on her little errands. His timing would be perfect, if he showed up now. Please, let it be today. The one day I need you-- Please?

Silent prayers for her partner, however, were ineffective protection for her thin fingers. Despite how badly she wanted to spite Nea, to be silent and watch him growl at his failure, Rhode couldn’t stifle a shriek of pain as she felt the bones snap in two. She didn’t even have to think about fighting, at that point-- She instinctively struck out, hard, with her legs and uninjured hand. No matter how tamely she behaved every day in this world, at home with her human family, whenever she wanted something, Rhode was no sweet child. She was a little monster, raised to be a destroyer. There weren’t any witnesses to fool here. Nea would kill her, if she didn’t do her damnedest to fight, to get away from him.

She wished she didn’t have to run. She wished she was strong enough to rip his fingers off one by one, until he apologized, until he saw how wrong he was and had been-- Until he realized how much she cared about him, and missed him, and wanted him to come home.

But if the Earl hadn’t been able to do it, so many years ago, there was no chance she would be able to make him see the light.

Go for the eyes, between the legs, the weak spots; Kuroro had drilled it into her, again and again, that she needed to aim for areas that would give her time to get away from stronger attackers. A few seconds was all she needed, to run for the street, to get someone’s attention and use their presence as sanctuary from Nea’s wrath.

[14thapostle]

It hurt, Nea realised with exhilaration as Rhode’s delicate little fist collided with his stomach. It hurt and it hurt in entirely different way than it did when he was brawling with Allen, fists out and teeth bared. He had never fought him like an enemy, like an actual threat, but Rhode was struggling for her life. She had been aiming for his groin, despite her clear miss, hoping to disable him and make a run for it-something that was clearly unthinkable for the likes of Allen. She was scared, despite her words and her ridiculous little show of bravado.

He let out a loud laugh as he choked, coughing up nothing but the air that had been violently expelled from him. He could barely breathe, but the laughter kept on coming. He gripped her tight, fingers leaving thin white marks on her neck, as he pressed his forehead against the cool stone of the wall, laughing all the while.

It took him a good long moment before he could recollect himself, his throat burning with mirth. It was too much! She was too much! Oh, how the years had changed her. He was going to relish every moment of this, every second of breaking her down. ‘Lest she ever forget her place.

“Pathetic,” he breathed out against her ear, cooing the word. “Look how far you’ve fallen, my dear sweet Rhode. Hoping for a saviour! Where’s your bite? Won’t you pierce me with your claws once more? ” he sounded out every syllable for her, giving just a twinge of emphasis on the words ‘pierce’ and ‘claw’.

Nea hadn’t forgotten last time; he had never forgotten a single moment of his rebellion, his botched revolution. He hadn’t forgotten how they fought against him, the sounds of their death cries, and most of all. . . the look of betrayal scarred across Rhode’s face then. It had been wondrous then, almost just as magnificent as it was now.

Almost.

It was just missing a little something. . . Perhaps, ah-

Slowly, he brought his lips to her cheekbone, just underneath her eye and placed a gentle little kiss to the skin there. “I nearly forgot, my dear Rhode. This pretty face of yours can be so distracting.”

“I’m back. No longer will you have to wait for me.”

He was still for a moment after that, grip loosening around her neck enough to allow her to comfortably breathe. For that moment, he was almost kind. Almost a shadow of his former self, the ever-adoring brother, always eager to please. Too eager, too willing, too desperate for acceptance. But no, Nea would never be that person ever again. Never, never, never.

Never will he fall back into such a sordid trap, he thought to himself as he uncoiled his fingers from around Rhode’s scrawny neck. He admired the thick purpling bruises that had already threatened to form in the shape of his fingers before digging his nails into her forehead.

“Now let me SET YOU FREE!” he hissed out, any gentle quality to his voice lost, and smashed her skull against the alley wall with a terrifying force.

[suchselfishness]

Even though her struggles were ineffective, his infuriating laughter vibrating through his tightening hand into her throat, Rhode continued striking out until she could feel her head beginning to ache for lack of air. Weakening, harsh, failed gasps for air, she clawed at his wrist, uselessly trying to dig her nails into his hard flesh. She was certain it was over, for a few moments- that she would suffocate, grotesque little bubbles of foam at her lips from her fight to breathe, broken fingers screaming with pain as she tried to use their meager strength to force him to release her--

But then, oh, air!

Rhode couldn't even bring herself to recoil from the kiss as she panted, closing her eyes for the shortest of moments in an attempt to ease the pain of her blood and oxygen rushing back into her head.

"You don't have to do this," she muttered, coughing and bringing her uninjured hand up to the aching marks on her throat. There wasn't time for it, though; she knew any mercy on his part was too good to be true, and he certainly didn't disappoint.

Rhode lunged forward as he moved toward her again, attempting to avoid a blow, but she was at an extreme disadvantage. The last thing she saw was his brutal, cruel smile, before she felt the back of her skull crack and the world went dark.

==

She felt a shock of relief when she woke up, despite the dull ache in her skull. There was a soft bed beneath her, a pillow under her head; it had been nothing but a nightmare, another horror show created by her subconscious mind. Stretching a bit, making a soft noise of contentment, she started rolling over to cuddle against her partner-- But she found herself held in place, tied down by her wrists.

Rhode opened her eyes, blinking slowly at the spots of light filling her vision. Something was wrong, here. This wasn't her familiar ceiling, the soft, comfortable scent of her own bed. And her head, oh, it hurt so damn badly.

Tugging weakly at the ties on her wrists, she took a moment to gauge her position. It wasn't too tight, at least, but she had been spread out in such a way that the muscles in her shoulders were beginning to ache and cramp. She could still feel the weight of her new knife in her pocket. Her encounter with Nea must have been real- But if that was the case, why wasn't she already dead?

Aside from the obvious answer, of course. They shared far too many interests for Rhode to lie to herself about what her treacherous brother was likely planning to do.