Storie originali > Drammatico
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Autore: Shadow Lestrange    23/08/2022    0 recensioni
[Scritto a quattro mani][English][Alternative Universe]
"You're staring, is dancing with the witch such an enchanting thing?" the hand on her hip got a little tighter, a warning.
"I was curious to see how fucked up you were" her laughter was quiet, forced. She was used to crafting emotions, for all she felt for years was anger. But his way with words made her giggle a little more sincere.
"Are you engraving them in your memory since when you'll kill me they will be resembling glass?"
Genere: Drammatico, Malinconico | Stato: completa
Tipo di coppia: Het
Note: AU, What if? | Avvertimenti: Tematiche delicate, Violenza
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Perhaps in another story she had been a dear lady, smitten with the gaze of a lord that smiled just a bit too much for it to be sincere; fate was really a cruel thing, maybe if those nobles hadn't marked her as a witch she could've been one of their daughters in law, bearing in her womb their heir.
But a trial was set, and after a fabricated scandal she was written as the villain of their story. Really a cruel thing for a poor girl, one who set her heart after the best man at the worst time.

For it was a shame that the day after the grand ball where they were seen dancing he was found dead, a knife in his chest and a decorated handkerchief in his hand; surely belonging to a maiden who gifted him a piece of her.
Oz that day lost very much. Her title, her reputation but most importantly her mind. Her new name was a half truth, after all she did have a fascination for the dark arts, but only for the best interest of her studies.
But in that moment, looking at her books of spells and potions, only the darkest of shadows covered their finely crafted covers. A crooked smile painted her face as her soul turned grim.

And now in that same hall where her gesture condemned her she was dancing, hand in hand, with the hero they chose to oppose her.
Her gloves hid the metaphorically blood stained hands of a monster, her emerald gaze hid the burning hatred of the humans that ruined her life.
But he was different, for his eyes looked at her almost with pity, bearing stories of hard times and borderline desperation just to survive another day.

"You're staring, is dancing with the witch such an enchanting thing?" the hand on her hip got a little tighter, a warning.

"I was curious to see how fucked up you were" her laughter was quiet, forced. She was used to crafting emotions, for all she felt for years was anger. But his way with words made her giggle a little more sincere.

"Are you engraving them in your memory since when you'll kill me they will be resembling glass?"

"You sure say lots of creepy shit... But I guess that's to be expected seeing the state you're in right now". A laugh escaped her lips as she inched closer, as if by looking better into his eyes she would know more about him.

"You are really direct aren't you? I've never really heard anyone use such low terms around me before. But in regards to the 'state' I'm in, I suppose it would be surprising for you since you're a hero supported by the people". She considered.

"Woah, woah, who do you think I am?" He stepped back a bit, physically distancing himself away from her statement. She stayed put, her head tilting on the side, perplexed.
"I don't know what people told you but I'm no hero. I'm doing this for money. I'm a mercenary." her eyes widened slightly in confusion.

"You're...not?"

"I'm not. I just got here, I don't even know half of what you did. I don't know about this city and the city doesn't know me. It's a surprise that my employer even remembers my name." He sighed, taking a breather. "So, don't treat me like some all mighty hero alright? I haven't killed you yet just because this dancing thing was your final wish".
A few seconds passed, then a minute, the girl then started giggling trying to suppress the full bodied laugh she actually wanted to let out. After she regained some breath she grabbed his hand again, leading the other to her hip like before. Her dance was not done after all.

"I see! So slimy to not even want a proper hero to kill me" a sigh "but i suppose it's only fair"
He raised an eyebrow; she didn't look that much of a killer, if not for some rather sinister smiles. She now looked like a young woman reminiscing about a book she read.

"Why? You wanted a knight in shining armour?" an almost melancholic smile on her lips.

"I suppose not, thought i hoped they told you at least the whole story"

"That's not gonna change my goal, i still have to kill you by the end of the night" a spin, her dress flowed around them looking like a scene out of a fable, where the princess dances with her true love.

"I almost like you" she closed her eyes "so I'll try one more time to do a good thing" her eyes opened, the pupils so thin they looked like the ones of a cat ready to pounce on his prey, she leaned into him, putting her hands on his chest showing that she meant no ill intent.
"In about ten minutes one of the men that hired you is going to give a speech detailing my crimes, the moment he catches everyone's attention run from the hidden door in the back of this room" a smile, so sincere it contrasted with her next words "it will save your life since in about ten minutes I'm going to kill everyone in this hall as a closing act of my life" she leaned back, giving a bow after the end of the melody "after that you're welcome to come back and swiftly end my suffering oh knight in a not so shining armour"

He thought for a bit. She didn't seem that dangerous, but there would be no point in lying now. Plus if his employer died he could just steal his pay off his pocket and leave, his life didn't really matter.

"...Sure, I'll trust you. Just don't trick me and make me a scapegoat of your bloodshed". She chuckled at the possibilty. Perhaps at the height of her bloodlust she couldíve done it, but now she was so tired.

"Of course not".

As the man at the other end of the room began his speech all eyes turned away from them, his exaggerated tone carried the audience's imagination away, entranced in the most macabre way while the details of her previous murders started to get revealed.
The mercenary wasnít paying attention, he looked around just to be sure, then quietly slipped outside the room and waited, leaning against the cold wall behind him.
He tried to keep his mind occupied, ignoring the muffled sounds creeping out the door. Unlike the people inside, at least those noises could escape. He waited until the room felt quiet, so quiet that if a pin dropped you could pinpoint its exact location with your eyes closed.

He opened the door, and his vision filled with red. Everywhere he could look was stained, drenched. What colour were those instruments before this happened? He had forgotten already.

He whistled. "You sure put on a big show here, shame I missed it". He gave a look at the room as a whole and thought aloud. "You know, somehow this room seems more lively than before. Must be because their blood is warmer than their personalities were".
The witch giggled, surprised by his teasing statements.

"I thought these were your employers?"

"They're just money with legs for all I care. Speaking of which; you got your play time, it's over now".

"Ah, yes". She sighed, looking up towards the ceiling. "It seems my time has ran out". She looked back at him with a smile, extending her arms towards him as if waiting the embrace of death.

"Yeah, yeah, but first". He stepped closer, ignoring her arms.

"I want to know what made you like this. You spared me afterall, so it's only fair that I at least know who you are".
She looked at him in surprise, but after a couple moments she smiled with gratitude, beginning her story.

If children's books had fairytales, this was surely a devil's tale. The tale of an angel unjustly thrown into hell, where her grief changed her to the very core, and the devil from the title of the story was born. She didnít kill that first time, that was obvious, but just as they ripped her wings she would eradicate them from existence itself.
After telling the story of the lamb sent to the slaughter she began the tale of the wolf that emerged. She killed some, all corrupt men that were given a pass for their status. Using magic was the best way she could carry the message of a vengeance so cruel it made her mind shatter into fragments.
This was one of the last men remaining, and that would be all, for her mind and body were already exhausted a long time ago.

"That's it?"

"That's it". She smiled a satisfied smile. The smile of someone that had finally witten an ending to the book of her life story, and had no regrets.

"I see. Pretty fucked up I'll admit".
Oh how direct, his lack of finesse will never cease to amuse her.

"I would say so, you've been pitying me ever since you first saw me, so why not make everything worse".

"Yeah, no going back now afterall. But of course I'll pity you, you hadn't done anything to be accused of up until your revenge. I can't not feel bad".

"How kind, thank you for feeling that way for me".

"But killing you with this pitying look would be way too depressing". He stated as he walked towards her. She looked up at him in confusion, until suddenly his arm was around her back, holding her close to him.
His warmth was so foreign, but somehow so comforting at the same time; he inched closer to her face, looking into her eyes as he opened his mouth to speak.

"I won't let you have that pityful expression even now that you're dying. So let me give you one last thing as a parting gift".
As soon as he finished he pressed his lips on hers, holding her tightly. Her eyes widened so much she felt them dry out a bit, like she hadn't been this surprised in years.
In that moment it felt like the tales her dad would narrate to her before bed, the kiss that broke off the curse of the princess imprisoned by the villain. Small tears formed in her eyes, the only man that ever stopped to consider her tale was the same that was meant to finish it.

She was so taken by his actions that she had missed the blade in his other hand, until it softly broke her skin, plunging deeper and deeper.
But it seemed like his grip on the handle wasn't as steady as usual, how curious.
   
 
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